


Edge

by phantonym



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse During Pregnancy, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Biological Imperatives, Come Swallowing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Forced dieting, Genital Torture, Horror, Kidnapping, Knotting, Lima Syndrome, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obsessive Draco Malfoy, Omega Hermione Granger, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Psychological Horror, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion, Threats of Violence, Unreliable Narrator, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantonym/pseuds/phantonym
Summary: “N-no. Omega aren’t — they’re not real.” She’s squirming, pressing herself against him as she talks. “They’re a myth.”“You sure, Granger?” His voice is low. He says her name with a slow drawl as he slides his fingers against her dripping knickers. “Did you ever bother to check? Or did you just assume? I have to admit, as a teenage boy, I was curious to find out. Where do you think half-breeds come from?” He leans close enough to whisper. “Did you think being fucked by a troll is something witches volunteer for?”Granger blinks as though the idea hasn’t occurred to her until just then.He steps closer until there’s barely any space between them. She’s rocking her hips rapidly against his hand. Desire pools in his lower abdomen as his cock begins throbbing in time with his pounding heart.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 276
Kudos: 914





	1. Ravishment

**Author's Note:**

> You read the tags and clicked anyway. 
> 
> If you haven't read the tags, I would strongly advise doing so before reading further.
> 
> Alpha/Beta work by Hesper Black, Bionically, and Katsitting.

* * *

Well, this isn’t something he anticipated ever laying eyes on. 

Hermione Granger, drugged out of her mind and stumbling clumsily down Knockturn Alley. Her wand is clasped shakily in trembling fingers. Her eyes dart back and forth, wide and terrified, as though she expects a monster to crawl out of the shadows and eat her alive. 

The eerie silence of the alley is broken by her heavy panting; a frightened, rasping sound that cuts through the air as she continues unsteadily forward. 

She must have a death wish. 

Draco keeps back and watches as she dazedly makes her way towards him until he can’t resist the urge to get a closer taste. 

He emerges slowly from the shadows. 

“Granger...”

She looks up sharply, her tongue darting out to nervously wet her lips. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused but she studies his face with a glimmer of hope. Her chest keeps rising and falling, and her jaw hangs slack, as though she can’t remember to keep her mouth closed. 

She furrows her eyebrows and tilts her head sideways. 

Bubbles of anticipation rise in his stomach.

“M-Malfoy?”

Her cheeks have a high flush across them. In the dimness of the alleyway, it catches weirdly in the light, making her strangely luminous despite her dishevelment. 

The alley is filthy, but there’s a strange, tantalising smell in the air as he approaches her.

He prowls closer, taking her in. A droplet of drool is beginning to collect at the corner of her mouth. 

Draco hopes someone’s already seen her and taken photos. In case they haven’t, his first stop once he’s gotten his fill will be to drop a quick tip with the Daily Prophet.

This is the end of her sainted image. 

He’d dearly love to watch how far she can fall. No matter how far, it won’t be far enough. 

He can already almost taste the vindication of taking down the poster-girl of the Mudblood advocates. 

He conceals a smirk as he draws closer. 

“What are you doing in here, Granger?” His voice is raised so that it will carry and hopefully draw attention.

Granger’s eyes dart around, and her small, white teeth catch her lip as she stands hesitating. 

“Something — something’s wrong.” The words are a strained whisper. The fingers of both her hands are wrapped around her wand, gripping it. “With me.”

He suppresses a chuckle. 

“Really? What’s wrong? Granger?” His voice is even louder as he says her name the second time. If someone notices and recognises her, Draco won't have to do a thing; they'll never pin anything on him.

He closes in. 

Granger is staring at him, her eyes burning. It occurs to him that she isn’t staring at his face, her eyes are locked lower...

Interesting.

The occasions in which anyone eyes him with expressions that aren’t disdainful are few and terribly far between. Ten years and the stigma of being a Death Eater still sticks — with far greater tenacity than his Dark Mark had managed to. 

Granger’s face is growing increasingly slack as she keeps panting. The drool in the corner of her mouth has become a small trickle moving towards her chin. It catches in the low light. 

“Granger?”

She starts and stares at him.

“Don’t — don’t come any closer.” She grips her wand more tightly, raising it and levelling the tip over his heart. 

He freezes briefly, rage flaring through him so searing it singes his skin. His fingers curl into a painful fist. She’s the helpless one; she should be begging him not to hurt her, not threatening him. He fights back a sneer and continues his approach. 

She doesn’t actually appear to be in any condition to stop him. In fact, she looks so high he doubts she’ll have any memory of it. Her hands are already beginning to droop, wand falling to her side. 

Perfect.

He drags his eyes over her again, noticing the sheen of sweat down her throat now that he’s closer. The drool has reached her chin. Her pupils are blown so wide the muddy brown of her irises is barely visible. Her lips and cheeks are a deepening shade of pink.

“What’s wrong? Mix up a few bottles in the potion cabinet?”

A small whimper escapes her. 

“I — don’t know. My — my magic won’t work. I can’t —“ She swallows. “I can’t apparate home —“ her voice breaks off in terror. “And I feel — feel like I’m on fire — inside. I’m trying to find a Floo. But — I think I’m lost.”

What has she taken? He catalogues her symptoms again and can’t place it. It might be an unfortunate combination of things. A few potion stimulants to sustain her chronic workaholism and a poorly chosen downer. Maybe she’s been careless enough to mix them with Muggle drugs. 

With the state she’s in, it would hardly be surprising if she collapses in the street. She’s swaying precariously, rocking to and fro like a broken tree branch. Maybe he’ll add a little weight, a little push to make her crumble.

One of her hands flutter weakly forward, as though she’s grasping for him. “Malfoy — can you help me? I just — I need to find a Floo.” 

Will wonders never cease? 

He grins wolfishly down at her frightened face. “Sure, I’ll help you, Granger.” 

He can lead her slowly through the most visible parts of Diagon Alley, perhaps take her to the Ministry Atrium and into the DMLE ‘looking for Potter.’ 

The whole world should see her drooling and panting as she stumbles around on a public potions high. 

He reaches out to take her by the arm. As his hand reaches her, she shudders and moans, leaning into his touch. 

His eyes widen and he jerks back in order to study her again with a slowly dawning sense of suspicion. 

He ducks his head closer and breathes in sharply near her shimmering skin. As her scent hits him, he feels his mind go blank. His revulsion vanishes as desire floods over him. His jaw drops, and he gives a ragged gasp as his blood burns violently in his veins. His cock is instantly achingly hard. His fingers twitch. 

He’s overcome with a desire to grip her closer, tighter; drag her down and bury himself deep in her. All the way in. 

He nearly collapses but catches himself against the rough alley wall as he tries to think, trying to make sense of the wave of desire he’s drowning in. 

Granger gives a weak whimper, arching against him. 

He groans and shakes his head, trying to clear it and form a fully coherent thought. 

He’s right. His suspicion was right. He gapes and then gives a hoarse, barking laugh. 

Karma is a bitch. This is possibly the most satisfying — the most exhilarating thing that has ever happened in his life.

He crowds closer, caging Granger against the wall. 

“Tell me, Granger.” His voice is thick and husky. Quieter now. “How — exactly do you feel right now.”

His breathing is getting almost as short as hers. He can see the air from each breath brush across her face, causing her bushy hair to shift. She squeezes her eyes closed but still seems to quiver from the sensation. 

“I feel — “ Her voice wavers. “All of me is — too warm … over-sensitive … “

Draco grinds his teeth together and fights back another groan. He reaches out and wipes away the drool on her chin. The liquid is wet and slippery between his fingers. 

Granger shakes, a hot, breathy sigh escaping her mouth as her hands drop limp at her sides. The sound moves through his nerves and straight to his groin. His cock throbs, aching. He vaguely registers the sound of her wand as it slips from her fingers and clatters onto the cobblestone.

He wants to laugh. He knows what’s wrong with her. The thrill of the realisation makes it hard to breathe. She’s done. Forever. He doesn’t have to do a single thing.

Not potions. It isn’t potions after all. 

Granger is an Omega. A one in a million anomaly where a Magical Being’s magic goes wrong. The magic becomes internally blocked and refuses to be channelled naturally. The magic concentrates itself, overstimulating the reproductive system. 

It’s no wonder she couldn’t apparate. Her magic is busily burning her mind up and turning her into a mindless, needy, little whore who will try desperately to find someone to satisfy her need to mate. Someone to “help” her. 

Anyone who gets close to her will feel the way Draco does. If he leaves her in Knockturn Alley she’ll probably be fucked to death by morning. 

Unless someone takes her home. 

Or sells her. 

She’ll be worth a fortune on the Black Market.

He can feel her breath against his skin. Wet and warm. She’s burning, but he can certainly warm himself by the flames. Draco grinds his teeth and presses a palm hard against the wall behind her until the rough stones bite at his skin as he tries to tamp down his arousal and consider her appraisingly. 

“I know what’s wrong with you, Granger,” he finally says in a low voice, dropping his head and drawing in another deep breath of that addictive scent. 

She smells like sex. Knockturn Alley will be crawling in a few minutes. Anyone with magic will want her. Wizards. Vampires. Werewolves. Even the centaurs. An Omega for the Alpha species to claim. 

Magic is might. 

She should have stayed a Beta. He’ll bet she wishes she were a Muggle once she realises what her filthy magic will do to her now.

“You — do?” Her voice is desperate. 

Draco can’t stop himself from sliding a hand up her skirt, feeling her burning skin and the slippery fluid starting to slide past her knickers and down her thighs. She gives a guttural moan and parts her legs for him. 

Slut. 

A Mudblood — the Mudblood — spreading her legs in the middle of Knockturn Alley so a former Death Eater will finger her. This is gloriously vindicating.

She seems too feverish and dazed to even realise it. No use for that big brain of hers anymore. Now she thinks with her cunt. 

Blood pounds in his ears. He can barely keep from chuckling as he runs a finger along her drenched knickers, feeling the tantalising slit between her legs. The sensation of it calls to him. Come inside. Make your home here. I need you. I’m made for you. 

He grits his teeth at the instant temptation to delve inside. She’ll be tight, hot, clenching. That dirty blood is good for something after all.

She bucks her hips against his hand, urging him on. He bites his lip to suppress a groan. His cock is twitching painfully in response. Christ, he wants to turn her inside out.

He presses his thumb against the spot just below her pelvis, finding the nub there. She mewls, and he grits his teeth as he tries to keep his mind clear.

Perhaps … he’ll slip his fingers inside; just to feel her and find out how warm and wet she’d be around him. 

He looks down at her slackened face. There’s another droplet of drool beginning to escape her mouth. Her cheeks and lips are alluringly flushed. Whores cake their faces with rouge to fake that kind of red. Her eyes are dark and wanton as she stares up at him. She looks as stupid as he used to wish she was.

Stupid Granger; it’s so oxymoronic it’s mind-clearing. 

He presses himself closer to her and lowers his mouth to her ear. 

“You’re turning into an Omega.” There’s a rush of vicious satisfaction as he says it, wondering if she’s even lucid enough to comprehend his words

Granger’s entire body shudders. The smell of Knockturn Alley’s piss and filth disappears under the heady scent of her sex. It’s entrancing in its allurement. 

She’s advertising like an animal in heat. 

She wants to be found. To be fucked.

Her face screws up as though she’s trying to comprehend, and she suddenly seems to be aware of herself again. She jerks herself back, trying to pull away from Draco’s touch. 

Draco doesn’t hide his smile as he stares down at her horrified face and presses his hand between her legs again. Her thighs tighten around him. 

Her cunt is addictively warm against his fingers. Supple. 

Azkaban had been so cold. There’s a numbing chill within his bones and buried deep inside his gut that he can’t escape.

Cold is Dementors with their gaping, needle mouths closing in on him, sucking on his soul until its edges are unravelling. Cold is starving to death; ravenously swallowing the watery gruel that’s never enough to ease the pit of hunger in his shrivelled stomach. Cold is lying on rough stones that rub him raw; the ocean wind slicing his skin open until the icy salt air begins crusting with stinging agony across the open sores on his body, sticking to the rags he wears until it’s too painful to move. It’s a throbbing pain in his bones and joints. Cold is reliving all his worst memories again and again until he can’t clearly remember if there’s ever been any good ones.

He hates the cold. Hates snow. Hates rain. Hates fog. In winter, he can barely make himself go out. All the pain comes back. A chill in floorboards and he can hardly bring himself to crawl out of bed. A whisper of frost glazing over his skin, and it’s the starvation and pain and dementors again. 

Cruciatus is an all-consuming agony in the moment, but Azkaban is slow torture that settles in the bones and never leaves. 

Draco likes warm, soft things that make his blood burn. Wet cunts and hot mouths; too much bedding, roaring fires, and scalding showers that don’t end for hours. Piping hot food, as much as he wants. 

He’s become a connoisseur of the decadent; an aesthete of luxury. 

A gourmand.

Granger’s scent is sinful enticement. The embodiment of lust. It’s a siren’s call pulsing through his veins. Her cunt softer and warmer than anything he’s touched recently. Her velvet folds drip at his touch...

“N-no. Omega aren’t — they’re not real.” She’s squirming, pressing herself against him as she talks. “They’re a myth.”

“You sure, Granger?” His voice is low. He says her name with a slow drawl as he slides his fingers against her dripping knickers. “Did you ever bother to check? Or did you just assume? I have to admit, as a teenage boy, I was curious to find out. Where do you think half-breeds come from?” He leans close enough to whisper. “Did you think being fucked by a troll is something witches volunteer for?”

Granger blinks as though the idea hasn’t occurred to her until just then. 

He steps closer until there’s barely any space between them. She’s rocking her hips rapidly against his hand. Desire pools in his lower abdomen as his cock begins throbbing in time with his pounding heart. 

“You haven’t been increasingly feverish the last few weeks?” His mouth is mere centimetres above her shimmering skin. Heat radiates from her body. His lips ghost near her temples and the shell of her ear as he continues to speak softly to her. He fights against the temptation to run his tongue across the mesmerising sheen of sweat to taste it. “Finding your spellwork getting weaker and weaker? Thirsty all the time?” 

He languorously massages her swollen folds “Has it been hard to think or work because you keep aching and tingling here?”

He keeps sliding his fingers against her knickers, feeling the outline of her cunt. It’s like prying apart a rosebud, delving into its petals and seeking out its fragrant heart. She keens and shifts, parting her legs as though she’s about to come on his hand. 

Draco forces himself to withdraw his fingers. They’re already slippery and slickened with her essence. “You’re the one everyone says is so bright. If you’re sure they’re a myth, I suppose they must be. I’m sure you’ll feel better soon.”

She may start believing it after the tenth Magical Being fucks her in broad daylight. 

Despite her appeal, he won’t let himself stoop so low as to sully himself with her. 

Yet he can’t resist the urge to flick his tongue out against his fingertip and taste her just once. 

Tangy ... addictive. 

He pauses, his finger still pressed against the tip of his tongue, considering and reconsidering. 

Perhaps he could fuck her. He’s always wondered what it would be like, both fucking Granger and fucking an Omega. Two teenage fantasies in one. She won’t stop him. She wants it more than he does. 

He can take her against the wall and leave her in the alley filled with his come for whoever comes along next. He’d be the one to break her in. 

Initiate her as an Omega. 

That’s a delightful thought.

“Don’t — don’t leave.” Granger is desperate, pleading. “Can you help me find Harry?”

His tongue curdles at the name, and he fights back a sneer as his shoulders stiffen. No. 

He quirks an eyebrow and straightens the heavy fabric of his robes. “I’m busy, Granger.”

“Please…” she whimpers. “Please.”

The unexpected words coming from her mouth make his cock throb, twitching in his trousers. He grunts, trying to bite back a moan. Hearing her beg is almost enough to push him over the edge.

He hesitates a moment longer, wavering as his distaste rapidly fades away. He groans as he cages her with his body and presses a hand between her legs once again. She’s wetter already; warmer, dripping on his fingers. Her eyes roll back as she grinds her hips desperately. 

“You do beg nicely, Granger,” he mutters as he strokes her. “Beg me again.”

“Please.”

A thrill descends through his gut. 

His pulls her knickers to the side and slips two fingers easily into her cunt.

She flutters around the digits and clenches, tight and burning around him. He can feel her juices sliding over his hand as his fingers insinuate themselves inside that exquisite heat. He hisses with satisfaction. She’ll fit him like a glove, her supple flesh stretched tight around his cock. She’s ripe, slick, and feverishly scalding. He pulls his fingers out and then pumps them back into her, feeling her open and tighten around him, drawing him in; tempting him further. 

Granger stops grinding into him. She’s twisting and trying to pull away from him. 

“No! N-no — No. Stop. I don’t want — no.” 

Draco can’t hear her through the blood pounding in his ears.

He reaches down and frees his cock from inside his robes as he shoves her back against the wall. He has no intention of being gentle with her, she’ll probably love it.

He pins her in place and slides his length through her hot, dripping arousal, coating himself with her fluids as he runs his cock against the velvet softness of her cunt. She’s still saying no, but her hips are already rolling helplessly against his. 

He starts to push in and then hesitates, freezing as a detail about Omegas suddenly bores into his consciousness.

Supposedly his cock will grow a knot if he fucks her, as though he’s some kind of rutting stud dog. He’s seen pictures illustrating the phenomenon. 

It’s some type of bizarre biological reaction Granger causes. Omegas are little cum-buckets. Their over-stimulated reproductive systems are desperate to be bred. Somehow, his cock will develop a knot at the base, locking itself in behind her pelvis to keep his seed against her cervix as long as possible. The books described it as intensely pleasurable, but it sounds like some kind of nightmare pure-blood parents tell to keep their sons from defiling themselves. 

He isn’t fully certain of how it works or if there’s any way of preventing it. 

Desperate as he is for her, Draco doesn’t fancy being stuck inside Granger’s cunt while standing in Knockturn Alley.

He should leave her. Let someone else fuck her and get trapped. 

She gives a hot, breathy moan and rotates her hips against his aching erection. His hips buck involuntarily, and the head of his cock slips into those enticing depths. He bites down on his lip as he tries to pull away from her desperate heat. He can’t. 

He needs her. He needs to know what it’s like inside her, her body wrapped tight around his cock. 

He hesitates a moment longer and pulls her closer, closing his eyes and Disapparating. They reappear in the guest room of his townhouse. 

He can do whatever he wants now.

He turns her without a word and shoves her face-first into the mattress as he rips her knickers out of the way.

She tries to fight, struggling to pull herself free, and he shoves her face harder into the eiderdown. 

“Don’t — don’t. Please don’t — Malfoy. Don’t ...” Her voice is frantic as she twists under his grip. He tangles a hand in her hair and bears down firmly on her head while he pins her hips against the edge with his weight. 

He grips the base of his cock and sheaths himself inside her with one thrust, groaning as his legs nearly give out from the delicious, tender bliss. 

Her sobs through the bedding are faint as he draws back and drives in again. She might be a stuck-up bitch, but she has a divine cunt. It clenches hot and throbbing. He closes his eyes, holding her in place while he continues moving. 

Despite her cries and protests, her cunt is already fluttering around his cock, clenching like it never wants to let go. She pulls him in deeper, urging him. She’s burning hot and wet. So warm. Addictively so. Better than any whore’s cunt he’s had in his life. 

He rolls his hips and buries himself deeper with a moan as he lets go of her hair, sliding his hands down her body. Her robes are dreadful, cheaply made. They smell like room fresheners. He shoves them up and out of his way so he can touch more of that feverishly warm skin. Granger stops begging and begins to sob and whimper with every thrust. 

As he grips her hips, he notices that she’s several pounds heavier than would be his taste. Not fat, but not as thin as he prefers. Voluptuous perhaps. Whatever it’s called, he doesn’t care for it. He prefers to squeeze through flesh and find the delicate arch of bone within. A china doll. He enjoys the fragility it implies. Women are the most beautiful when they’re birdlike: tiny and dainty. There’s a greater refinement to it. 

Spending her whole life sitting in an office and drafting up legislation hasn’t done Granger’s sex appeal any favours whatsoever. 

Yet, despite the notable imperfection of her weight, he’s beginning to understand why Omegas are worth their weight in gold. Her hormones hit him like a drug. Delicious bliss. The pleasure is exhilarating, it rises up and drowns him. He’s lost in the carnal avarice. Sex has never been this intense before.

There isn’t a single encounter that compares.

He groans and slams his hips against her again. His balls slap against the softness of her swollen cunt, eliciting small gasps and moans as her hips begin moving with his. The sound of her pleasure shivers through him, both a caress and a thrill. 

Of course she enjoys it. How could she not enjoy this?

He angles his thrusts in response to her moans and feels her clench and shudder around him. He teeters on the edge as her climax rolls through her body, biting painfully down on the sensitive inner flesh of his lip as her cunt milks him. The muscles in his pelvis spasm as he strains to rein himself in. 

It’s as though he‘s some randy, over-eager boy. 

If he’s only going to fuck her once, he wants it to last and last. He needs to savour the experience; draw it out. Make it perfect. 

He slows down, watching his cock slide out of her, coated in her arousal, and then just as slowly he sinks back in, watching himself disappear as she stretches and takes every inch of him. He can’t stop moaning from the incredible sensation of her molten core around him.

She’s gone back to crying. He wants to feel her need again. 

He reaches around and finds her swollen clit, sliding his fingers around the delicate flesh until she began moving against him, meeting his thrusts again. He presses his thumb against it, and she tightens around him like a burning vise, her walls fluttering rapidly as she moans and climaxes again.

As her second orgasm grips him, he feels himself swelling as though he’s going to explode inside her. He pulls back to thrust, and can’t. Panic shoots through him. His cock is stuck. 

He jerks back violently, but can’t remove himself. Granger gives a muffled scream as he pulls her down the bed by her cunt.

An ensuing pulse of pleasure abruptly annihilates his panic. His body seizes and he pushes into her, driving himself deeper and his cock swells larger, throbbing in an exhilarating crescendo as his hips jerk. He needs to fill her. He grinds himself in deeper, burying himself as far in as he can. His fingers dig into her hips until he finds bone as he empties into her. Every spurt is a haze of ecstasy. 

He nearly collapses onto her. His chest is heaving, and his entire body shakes as though he’s drugged and his every nerve has been overstimulated. He’s boneless from the intensity of his orgasm. His legs give out. He catches her by the waist and drags her back up, further onto the mattress. She squirms and he moans, his body curling around hers as he feels his cock pulse, and he comes again. The pleasure is so exquisite, so intense it’s searing and almost painful to re-experience.

He holds her covetously against himself as he recovers, stilling her when she tries to move. When he’s no longer gasping for breath, he withdraws his hands and eyes her tiredly. 

Now that he’s fucked her, he’s able to analyse her more critically. 

Her cheap, oversized robes are bunched up along her torso, and her hair puffs out in a tangled mass that obscures her head. His lips curl with disdain as he takes in the sight of her with his mind cleared. 

He shoves her offending mop of hair into her face and feels the unpleasant synthetic fabric of her robes. 

If he’s going to have a go with Granger, he might as well get his fill. He draws his wand and mutters a severing charm, cutting her clothes off. 

Her hands weakly try to cover herself, attempting to hold her ruined robes in place, but he jerks the fabric free and banishes them before surveying her once again. 

She’s much better looking nude. Not nearly thin enough to qualify as attractive, but smaller than he’d initially thought. Her skin glistens with a lovely sheen of sweat. It’s pleasantly rosy from her feverish condition. Underneath her off-the-rack and absurdly ill-fitted robes and dresses, she isn’t half bad-looking. Definitely pretty enough to fuck. He runs his fingers across her skin. Soft. 

So deliciously warm. 

She’s delicate and pale. She’ll probably bruise easily. He could write himself into her skin if he wanted to. 

He runs his thumb along the dip of her spine, and she clenches around him.

He mulls over what to do with her. 

He could sell her, but he’s put considerable effort into keeping himself beneath the attention of the Ministry. Four years in Azkaban was more than enough to last him a lifetime. He has sufficient money at his disposal already. He isn’t interested in risking Azkaban over sex trafficking. 

He’ll just drop her back at Knockturn Alley. Or perhaps the Forbidden Forest. There are rumours that Greyback is still alive and lurking there. He probably wants a new pack. Maybe he’ll fuck one out of Granger. She can spend the rest of her life whelping werewolf pups. 

He can’t help but chuckle at the idea of Granger, facedown and moaning in the dirt while Greyback ruts her. Greyback wanted her back during the war. He’s probably the type who’d enjoy the extra weight. 

Granger might prefer Greyback to the centaurs. 

Draco runs his eyes over her again, admiring the way she looks with his cock still rigid and buried inside her. It’s almost a pity what will happen to her next.

He’s lucky to have gotten her first. She’s lucky too. He doubts the next individual to find her will be considerate enough to fuck her on a bed. Her pale, unmarred skin will disappear under the attentions of one alpha after another after another. 

Draco has taken her at her most pristine.

She’s crying quietly again, her hands pressed over her mouth as her shoulders tremble. 

“Stop crying.”

She freezes and then cries more softly, trying to muffle the sound. 

It causes an eerie thrill in his stomach. She knows what’s going to happen to her. There’s no Potter to save her this time. 

She’s even less than a Mudblood now. 

He leans in closer so his lips brush against the shell of her ear. “This is what you’re for, Granger.”

She curls tightly in on herself and keeps shaking with suppressed sobs until she falls asleep. 

When his cock finally softens enough to pull out, Draco slides slowly free. The movement makes a squelching sound, and his seed gushes out of her cunt, trailing in streams along her arse and thighs. He wants to push it back inside her. She should sleep with it there. He looks down, studying it, and notices streaks of blood on the base of his cock. 

His chest swells and a flush of triumph spreads through him as he wipes himself off onto the sheets. 

He tucks his cock back into his robes and stares at her. There’s a pinkish wet spot on the duvet under her cunt, a mixture of her blood and slick and his come. 

Mudblood blood. He'll burn all the bedding once he’s gotten rid of her. 

He tilts his head to the side and studies her front, quirking an eyebrow in surprise. Granger has fantastic tits. Despite having them concealed under her arms and hair, he can still see the sumptuous way they press together, round and firm. Her nipples are a delicate rosy pink, like the smooth inside of a conch shell. 

His fingers twitch. He wants to touch them, to discover how they fit in his hands; the weight of them warm and copious in his palms. 

He planned to drop her back as soon as he’d broken her in once, but her tits have him reconsidering. 

One more time, from the front. He wants to see how they jiggle when he slams into her and watch her face when she comes on his cock. 

He leaves her, locking the door from the outside and goes downstairs for lunch. While he’s there, he sends out a few owls, cancelling his minimal plans for the next few days. 

When he goes back up to the guest room, Granger’s awake. She isn’t even trying to escape. Instead, she’s started nesting.

He stands at the door watching her scurry about nude. 

She’s stripped the bed and found towels somewhere which she used to cover the wet spot on the mattress. The duvet is folded in a strange twist around the foot of the bed, and the eiderdown forms a soft mound on top of it. She pants softly and fluffs the pillows carefully as she rocks on the corner of the mattress, grinding her cunt into some bunched up sheets. 

Her cheeks are heavily flushed, and her eyes are glazed. 

Draco stands watching her while he sips at a goblet of pumpkin juice, his cock already stirring. 

She gives a small cry, and her shoulders slump as she stops rocking. She’s drooling again, a delicate stream over her lower lip and down her chin. After a moment, she resumes panting and fluffing the pillows. It takes her several minutes to notice him by the door. 

He can see the apprehension in her dark eyes when she catches sight of him. She stiffens and cringes, trying to hide under the sheets. She can’t stop panting. Her hand reaches up to wipe away the drool slipping from her mouth. 

She folds her arms across her chest, curling in on herself, and her tits press together and lift from her attempted modesty. She inhales several times before looking up to meet his appraising gaze. 

“Please — let me go, Malfoy.”

Irritation sets his teeth on edge. 

“Ready to go back to Knockturn then?” He smirks as fear flickers across her face, and she hunkers down more tightly against the sheets. It seems that Granger is still in there somewhere. 

She swallows. “Please — please — please. Malfoy — please take me to Harry.”


	2. Gravitation

He shuts the door behind him, allowing the lock to audibly click as he flashes a cold smile, feeling the sense of warmth begin to grow in his chest. 

“Sorry, Granger…” he says in a light, cajoling tone. “I’m not finished with you yet. But, perhaps, if you impress me, I’ll reconsider Knockturn. I had intended to put you right back where I found you, but if you satisfy me, I may be convinced to drop you in a more genteel neighbourhood.”

His gaze wanders over her. Her nipples are hardened nubs. He’s dying to suck on them and find out if it makes that delectable little cunt clench around him. There’s clawing hunger to feel her climax again in that wet convulsion of need. 

But there’s also a cold, poisonous sense of rage in the pit of his stomach. The first words out of her mouth were begging to leave. Asking for Potter. 

It isn’t as though he needs to be nice. He didn’t have to make it good for her. He could have fucked her and left her in Knockturn Alley. 

He sets his empty goblet down on the bedside table, its clink echoing dry. Granger’s eyes flicker over to it and she licks her lips. They’re deep red and chapped from all her panting. That won’t do at all. He needs her to be soft, lush, wet...

It gives him an idea.

A smile plays at his lips. “Thirsty?” 

She gives a tentative nod, her eyes swimming and her face pale as she stares up at him from the bed where she’s still crouched and hiding amid the sheets. He grins and leans towards her, catching her by her dry ratty hair, and dragging her across the bed. 

She gives a pained cry, and he shoves his thumb into her mouth, feeling her hot, slick little tongue try to push him out. Her teeth catch the pad of his thumb, a sharp edge pricking into his skin. He sneers and digs his fingers to burn in under her jaw. Her skin is still fever-wet.

“Do not bite me, Mudblood.” 

He uses his hold on her mouth to drag her closer, leaning down to stare into her desperate eyes. 

Omegas need a firm hand. He’ll break her as his father used to break horses. 

“If I feel your teeth,” he says softly, his voice deceptively caressing, “I will apparate into a herd of centaurs and leave you there.” He shoves his thumb in further, bearing down hard on her tongue. His voice is still relentlessly calm. “Have you seen horse cock? Think your cunt’s big enough to hold one?”

Granger’s eyes grow round with horror, and he grins, baring his teeth like fangs, as he keeps pushing his hand further and deeper into her mouth, delving down her throat. Her throat contracts around his fingers, squeezing them with the soft undulating tissue. A gagging choke escapes her as he keeps pushing in further, feeling the back of her tongue spasm. Her teeth press into the back of his hand as he forces her mouth open.

“Centaurs will split you in half.” He shoves his thumb in until he can run it along the slippery back of her throat. 

There’s a part of him that wants to keep going, to slide his hand in further. He wants to run his fingers through her organs; insinuate himself into parts of her that have never been touched; curl within the core of that feverishly searing heat that radiates out from her. 

He wants to find it and touch it with his bare hands. 

“They don’t care for Wizarding traditions like pain relief or healing. Not many females. They get lonely, and desperate. It won’t matter how much you bleed, I’m sure the entire herd would take turns with an Omega.”

She’s making pathetic whimpering noises against his hand that thrill through his nerves. Her warm drool is coating his fingers and covering her chin, and she keeps gagging around him. 

He withdraws his fingers and wipes them off in her hair. “Open your mouth, Mudblood. You said you were thirsty.”

There are tears leaking out of her eyes as she parts her lips. Draco pulls his cock out and tangles his hand more tightly in her hair, pulling her closer until the sensitive, leaking tip is pressed against her soft lips. The moist heat of her breath sends a shudder up his spine. He bites his lip to hold back a moan, twisting his hands more tightly in her hair until his fingers are pressed against her skull, pulling her closer. 

“Wider. Remember what I said about your teeth.” He flashes her a viperine smile as the head of his cock slips in, disappearing into that deliciously warm mouth. 

His jaw loosens, and he sighs, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. “We wouldn’t want any accidents now, would we?”

He grips her mop of hair even tighter and drives in to the hilt, feeling her throat wrap around him in a tight spasm. 

Exquisite.

He groans heavily. 

She gives a garbled gasp, and her throat contracts again, gripping head of his cock. He holds her in place, relishing it. The iciness in the pit of his stomach has faded away entirely. 

She can’t beg for Potter now.

Her throat squeezes his cock again, and he forces back a moan. His stomach muscles are burning from the urge to pull back and drive deep again. He curls over her, hissing through his teeth from the overpowering sensation. 

Omegas are incredible. His eyes slide closed as he savours the lushness.

Her nose is pressed against his pubic bone and he can feel her hot breath as she snorts and gags, struggling to breathe. Her hands are scrabbling as his hips, trying to push him away and pull herself free.

“No teeth, Granger,” he says again as a reminder when he starts to move, sliding his cock out of her throat and then pushing slowly back in again. She’s deliciously slick and his balls tighten.

“Suck ... You’re thirsty.”

She keeps gagging. Her throat keeps contracting divinely around his cock as he forces it in and out. He slides his fingers through her hair and grips closer to her base of her skull in order to control her better. 

It’s perfection, every thrust. She’s so helpless in his hands. He pays no attention to her mewling and choking as he keeps guiding her head back and forth. 

He keeps going until his cock begins pulsing and swelling with that incomparable pleasure. 

Fuck. He’d forgotten—

He jerks out of her mouth just before he knots inside it. 

She gives a loud gasp, dragging in air greedily, her mouth still wide open. He strokes himself a few times and groans heavily, shuddering as he comes in ropes across her face. His come coats her eyes and nose and falls into her mouth. 

She flings herself forward and vomits violently onto the floor. When she stops retching, she sinks into a heap on the edge of the mattress, gasping and sobbing. 

Draco draws his wand and vanishes the mess on the floor before the scent can linger. 

She buries her face in her hands and starts shaking, curling into a tight ball. Her thighs are shimmering, her arousal is catching in the light as it keeps sliding from her cunt and coating her legs

He watches for a minute before reaching out and taking her by the ankle. She gives a cry of terror and tries to escape, jerking her foot free and lunging across the bed. He scoffs and grabs hold of her again. He drags her forcefully back, gripping her other ankle and spreading her apart so he can see her cunt. She twists and tries to pull her legs closed. 

“Lie still!” he says, his mouth twisting with rage at her resistance. He digs his fingers in bruisingly against the bones of her ankles and wrenches her legs further apart. 

She instantly goes obediently limp, and her legs fall open.

A rush of warmth floods over him. He gives a disbelieving laugh under his breath.

He’d forgotten that. Omegas are almost as compulsively obedient as house-elves. He’d known about it in theory, but there’s a thrilling sense of wonder and power in experiencing it. He only needs to order her to do something, and she’ll do as told. Instantly. Spread herself open at his command.

He loosens his grip as he stares ravenously at the apex of her legs. 

“Good girl.”

She gives a sobbing whimper but doesn’t move. He runs his hands up her legs, pushing her thighs further apart until she lies splayed beneath his gaze and he stares, mesmerised, at her cunt. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, turning her face away. 

There’s an overgrowth of brown curls between her legs that he doesn’t care for. Her areolas, cunt, and mouth are all the same shade of reddish-pink. She’s swollen, and the curls between her legs are dripping with her arousal. Her clit is so engorged it pokes through the tangle of hair as though it were begging for his attentions. 

He runs a finger through her slick and watches her clit twitch. He presses the flat of his thumb gently against it. She gives a low, ragged moan as her chest rises, her tits with their pebbled nipples, push upwards. 

He feels a giddy rush of heat roll through his veins.

“See? If you’re a good girl, this is easier.” He spreads her open like a flower bud and pushes his fingers inside. She’s like warm, soft fruit. Lush. Her sticky juices sliding around his fingers. Her core tightens and flutters eagerly around his fingertips. 

She’s so delicate and overripe. 

She gives a small breathy sigh, and her legs part further for him. 

He crooks his fingers, moaning under his breath at the comforting heat inside her. 

“That’s it. Just give in to it, Granger,” he says soothingly, and he feels her relax more. “Good girl, see? I can make this so good for you. It doesn’t have to be hard.”

Her expression is becoming glazed, and she starts giving little pants and whimpers of pleasure as he inspects her. She stops hiding her face and tilts her head back, baring her pale white throat, her mouth hanging slack as her hips buck involuntarily against his hand.

It’s like a fantasy from school. The little know-it-all swot splayed wantonly on his bed. Her legs as open as she can spread them. 

There are so many things to do with her. So many ways to fuck her. His blood is pulsing as he thinks about it. He already wants to fuck her again. His cock is beginning to twitch and harden as he touches her. 

He withdraws his fingers. She gives a whimper of protest and lifts her head. Her eyes are swallowed up with starved arousal, but she freezes as she meets his eyes. A glimmer of lucidity appears. She looks like she just remembered  _ who _ was touching her. 

Her jaw quivers and her mouth closes as she swallows, licking her reddened lips once more. He stands staring down at her, his expression impassive. She pulls her legs closed, drawing away from him, pressing herself back against the headboard and curling up to hide her nakedness. 

At least she isn’t begging for Potter anymore. 

His eyes narrow as she pulls the sheet against herself. 

“Did I say to move?”

She goes still and turns paler. Her dark eyes growing round. 

He points to the place he’d put her. “Come here.”

She doesn’t have any choice in the matter. Her biology and every bit of sense remaining in her head will tell her to obey. She moves cautiously back across the bed towards him, her eyes downcast as she creeps across the expensive sheets. She stops as she reaches the duvet and eiderdown she’d arranged while Draco was having lunch. A corner has been jostled. Her slender fingers carefully refold it and smooth away the creases. 

Draco eyes her “work” before catching her chin and tilting her face up towards his. She might not be thin, but her bones feel small beneath her skin. She has potential. He could carve it out of her.

“Did you do this to the bed?”

He feels her jaw trembling under his fingers, and she nods. He glances at it again. Nesting behaviour. It’s as compulsive a need for Omegas as her subservient obedience is. 

“Why?” He already knows the answer but he wants to hear her try to explain it. To hear Hermione Granger say she wants him to breed her. 

“I — I don’t know.” Her voice is dry and faltering. “I — felt like I had to. I’m — I’m supposed to make a — a home here n-now.”

Home. 

The word feels like ice in his veins, and the sliver of goodwill he’d begun to feel towards her instantly vanishes into a blinding, splintering rage. It bursts through his chest, slicing its way up to his throat until he’s choking on it. 

He jerks his hand away from her feverish skin. “This isn’t your home. This my house, Mudblood.”

She flinches. 

His hand shoots out and he grabs her by the jaw again, forcing her head back as he sneers down at her. “ _ This _ is my house. Do you know why I live here?”

She manages to shake her head. He grips her jaw harder, wrenching her further back until her spine is arching. 

“I live here,” he forces the words out between his teeth, “because your precious Ministry had my ancestral home razed. A thousand-year-old manor reduced to rubble to make room for an orphanage named in Potter’s honour. Do you think I’m going to let you live here?”

She’s beginning to tremble in his hands. Her chest is heaving. “No — no.”

“No!” He shakes her. “You’re just here until I decide who fucks you next. This isn’t your home.” He sneers at her. “This bed isn’t for you. You don’t get to make a nest in my guestroom as though you expect to stay and whelp here.” 

He wants to strangle her to death. There’s a savage part of him that wants to squeeze until he feels every single one of her bones snap under his hands and she’s screaming to death from it. 

Four years in Azkaban. When he was released, he’d been barely more than a shadow, so starved and disoriented he could hardly stand for whole minutes at a time. They gave him his mother’s wand and shoved his skeletal body into the school robes he’d been wearing during the Battle of Hogwarts and gotten arrested in. 

He remembers thinking the fabric was so much thicker and warmer than he’d recalled. 

Home. He was going home. Home, where his mother was waiting for him under house arrest. There would be more clothes. More warm things. At his home. With his mother. 

Instead, he arrived where home should have been and found that it wasn’t. He’d stared up at the large housing complex, trying to think if he could have gotten the location wrong until a surly woman came and told him that visits to the orphanage were by appointment only, no loitering, please. 

No one had told him the manor was gone. 

Just like they hadn’t told him his mother died from a potion overdose a year into his prison sentence. Pansy gave him the news before asking him not to visit her again and closing the door in his face.

No home. No family. No reputable establishment that would allow “his kind” to wash up or sleep.

He had money. The Ministry hadn’t been able to take his vault, but Knockturn Alley was the only area where he could reliably purchase anything.

For the last five years, he’s lived in a Muggle townhouse and barely gone out when he can help it. Recluse. Social outcast. Pariah. The only reason he keeps a guest room is in order to maintain an illusion of normalcy for himself. With the exception of his probation officer, he’s never had another person in his house. 

Those biannual visits ended the year before. 

He releases Granger’s face roughly, shoving her down onto the bed. “This will never be your home, Mudblood. It doesn’t matter what you do. You don’t get a home anymore. Get on the floor.”

She slips off the bed and curls into a tight ball on the wood floor. Her face is pale as though she’s drowning in terror, but she still keeps rubbing her thighs together and rocking against her hands. 

He flicks his wand and angrily banishes all the bedding Granger had felt so compelled to arrange. 

She doesn’t get bedding. She deserves to know what it’s like to freeze to death. 

It saves him the time of burning it all. 

When there’s nothing but a bare mattress he looks down at her again. He should banish the mattress too, make her lie on an empty box spring and feel the metal and wires cut into her. He raises his wand and then lowers it. 

He doesn’t want to knot in her on anything that uncomfortable. 

He turns away from the bed and stands over her, staring down where she’s kneeling on the floor. 

He smiles with satisfaction when he realises she’s practically cowering at his feet. He gives a dry laugh. 

“I always wanted a dog. I suppose a pet Mudblood is about the same.”

She flushes. 

He kneels down and stares into her eyes. “Can you be a good dog, Granger? I bet you can.” He smirks. “After all, you were so eager to please back in school.”

He can see the impotent rage in her eyes, but her cheeks are flushing deep pink again and her expression is growing increasingly starved. Needy slut. 

“Lie down. Lie down, Mudblood, and show me that desperate cunt.”

She bites her lip, hesitating before she lies down obediently on the wood floor, parting her legs slightly. 

“Legs further apart,” he says.

She squeezes her eyes shut and opens her legs. The room smells like her. Like decadent, indulgent sex. He wets his lips and actually feels himself salivate, liquid pooling under his tongue as he studies her dripping folds. 

“Spread yourself. Show me how wet you are.”

Her throat dips as she swallows, and her fingers trail down between her legs, parting herself, and sliding her pale fingers through the arousal slipping out of her. Her fingers glisten.

Draco stares mesmerised as she touches herself. Her swollen clit twitches and he can see her empty, needy cunt contract as she masturbates in front of him. 

His blood is thick and racing in his veins. His cock is straining in his robes, even the silk of his briefs feels too rough for it now that he’s experienced her velvet sheath, his balls are aching to empty inside her again. His mouth waters and he feels a painful sense of ravenousness clawing inside his chest, threatening to swallow him. He’s starving again. 

His hand abruptly shoots out, and he grips her wrist, stilling her and bringing her hand up to his mouth. He slides her fingers into his mouth, sucking her essence off her fingers. Perfect. The delectable tang with just a hint of sweetness. As though she were made to be consumed.

He groans. A fresh wave of blood floods to his groin, as though he hadn’t come on her face ten minutes earlier. 

She gives a breathy moan as his tongue swirls around her fingers and caresses the sensitive parts of her hand. He suckles on them and stares down at her drenched cunt. 

He may need more than a few days to get his fill of her. 

He pulls her fingers out of his mouth and places her hands very precisely on her knees. “Don’t move.”

Her knuckles whiten as she grips her legs, and she stares at him with wide eyes as he sits back and studies her. There’s a small puddle of arousal collecting on the floor under her arse. Such a waste. Maybe he’ll make her lick it up. 

He leans forward, lowering his mouth, and draggings his tongue across her cunt. He moans heavily against her folds. She tastes incredible. He wants to bury his face between her legs and drown in her. 

Granger bucks up towards him as though he’s electrocuted her. Her spine bows as she arches sharply. He slides his tongue into her, lapping her essence from her core before moving up to suck her needy clit into his mouth. He curls his tongue around it gently and feels it twitching desperately in response. She moans and the sound shudders through him. He feels her juices sliding freely out and coating his chin.

If she’d been a virgin, he doubts she’s ever let anyone lick her cunt. He was the first to fuck her and then first to taste her. Perhaps the first to slide a cock down her throat. The idea that her first orgasm may have been when she came on his cock is addictive. 

Hunger crawls over his skin. His hands slide under her legs and grip her hips, pulling her more firmly against his mouth. 

He likes imagining that she’s all his. No one else has had her. She’s never known pleasure until today. 

He’ll teach her everything. He can claim every inch of her before anyone else touches her. 

In the past, he’s never cared for virgins. They’re too needy. He went through the experience once, with Pansy, and swore to himself afterwards he’d never fuck another virgin. He doesn’t want to deal with a witch’s inhibitions and insecurities when he’s trying to get off. He’d much prefer a well-trained whore. 

There’s something satisfying about Granger’s virginal traits. The Mudblood. For Draco, Granger has always been the definitive Mudblood. He’s never considered her virginity, or lack thereof. A Virgin Mudblood. A near contradiction in terms, but he supposes they all have to be virgins at some point. 

Her resistance makes her surrender all the sweeter. She tastes like victory. He’s conquered her and now she’s helpless. No need for the Dark Lord. She’s subjugated by Draco himself, lying beneath him, mewling as her hips tilt to meet his tongue’s caress. He slides his fingers into her cunt and finds the spot behind her pelvis as he sucks hard on her clit. She shatters with a scream and floods him with her essence. He drinks her in like an addict, licking her thighs, and feeling her quiver under his touch.

He wants to keep consuming her. Turn her inside out and drink every drop of the sweet delicacy that slips from her. He wants to swallow her heat and bury it in his own chest. 

After he licks up every drop, he sits up and surveys her. She’s boneless and trembling. Her hands still obediently grip her knees. 

Her eyes are black, and her expression is still desperate and ravenous. A smile spreads across his face.

It doesn’t matter how many times he gets her off, what she needs is a cock in her cunt. 

His cock. 

He reaches into his robes, stroking himself while he considers what he wants to do next. His free hand wanders up to tease her lovely tits. They’re firm and tight with arousal, but still deliciously soft. He wants to press his face against them and rest there, her gentle heartbeat lulling him to sleep as her curves mould against him. Her nipples are rigid, pebbling hard under his fingers. He rolls and tugs at them. With every moan and whimper he elicits, it feels like a string between his gut and cock is plucked by her voice. The pleasure vibrates through him. 

He sits back on his heels. “Up.”

She sits up. 

“Bed. Lie down on your back like you were.”

She looks nervous and moves slowly. He can see the plea in her eyes, even if she has sense not to verbalise it.

His eyes narrow and he wonders what she’d do if he took a flogger to her cunt. Maybe he’ll buy one, just in case he ever wants to find out. 

When she’s in her place again, submissively splayed for him, he steps forward, hooking his hands around her thighs and dragging her down the mattress to the edge of the bed. She cringes at his touch. He pauses and stares at her as he runs his hands across her feverish skin. Her thick, unkempt eyebrows are furrowed nervously and she looks fearful.

“You don’t want me to hurt you, do you?”

She shakes her head quickly. 

“No. You don’t. I can hurt you as much as I want to, can’t I?” He leans over her so he can watch her expression carefully as he speaks. “I could string you up in my basement and leave you there. A little Omega whore. You know what they say about finders being keepers. That’s how it works with Omegas. I found you, I get to keep you. When I get tired of you, I could rent you out. You’ll bring in quite a steady income, you know.”

There are tears sliding down her temples into her hair, and her shoulders begin shaking. 

It makes Draco glow with satisfaction. She deserves to know what it feels like to have everything taken away. If Mudbloods had stayed in the Muggle world, where they belonged, the Wizarding war would never have happened. Draco would still have his home, his parents, and no knowledge of the cold of Azkaban.

He leans closer, breathing in the beguiling scent of her skin. It sings to him. He sighs, his chest pressing against her. Her body moulds beneath his as he lies on top of her.

“Wizards. Werewolves. Vampires. Goblins. I doubt I could safely leave you with a house-elf. Do you imagine any of them would care about what bills you passed to protect them when they have a chance to get inside this hot little cunt?” He smirks. 

What do her tears taste like? He wants to taste her all over. Every part of her is intended to entice now. 

He shakes his head. “No, they wouldn’t. They’d pay through the nose to have a turn with you. It’s a pity you didn’t believe in Omegas; perhaps you could have passed some bills for them.”

He gives a low laugh before inhaling against her skin, dragging his tongue up along the length of her throat. Sweet and salty with an enticing undertone of something deep and undefinable that bursts like a flare through his mind, heady and overwhelming. He wants to coil himself around her, squeeze her soft body against himself until he can feel her quick, feverish pulse, the rapid staccato of her pounding heart, the rising swell of her every breath. 

“You barely have a brain anymore.” His fingers slide between their bodies to pet her cunt. “This is what you think with now. You’re just a desperate hole.”

He lets her cry for a moment. Then he begins to run his fingers along her sides, teasing her until she’s whimpering through her tears. Arching restless beneath him as her arousal smothers her grief. Her quick breathy pants fill the air and her fingers grasp at his robes.

He pulls away. “Beg me. Beg me to fuck you. Convince me how much you want it.”

Her hands drop away and she falls silent. The cords in his neck tense until they threaten to snap. His fingers press against each other as he curls them along the bare mattress.

Fucking bitch. 

Draco pushes himself back and stands, straightening his robes. “In a moment, I’m going to leave for the day. If you want me to fuck you before I go, I recommend you begin begging me now.” He sneers. “Unless you think you can wait until tomorrow morning. Do you believe you can?” He glances towards the clock, which indicates it’s an hour past noon. “Do you think what’s left of your brain will last until then?”

Her eyes follow his gaze. She stares at the clock and swallows, licking her lips. Her mouth opens, and she presses her lips together until her jaw trembles violently. She parts her lips, and a rasping whimper escapes her throat. 

“Please — please, Malfoy. Please fuck me.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. 

Draco’s cock throbs with each word. He feels raw with the need to press inside her core again, but he holds himself back. He wants her prostrate at his feet, pleading for this.

“I need more convincing than that after how ungrateful you've been.”

“Please …” she whimpers the word, and it trills like a pheonix song through his veins. “I need you. I need your — ” she looks uncertain. “ — your penis.”

Draco cringes at the word choice. If he had any doubts about what a prude she was, they are definitively confirmed now. 

“Cock. Call it a cock, for Christ’s sake, Granger.”

“Cock.”

Draco rolls his eyes. He’ll have to teach her to beg properly at a later point. If he doesn’t fuck her now, he’s going to come in his robes like just listening to her.

“Good enough.” He pulls his length out, pumping his fingers up and down it with a groan. Even wanking near her, the pleasure unbelievable as he breathes in the heady scent of her need. 

Granger might not know how to refer to cock, but her eyes are starved as she looks at it. 

He places her hands at her knees, making her open and present herself before he runs his cock through her glistening folds. She cants her hips eagerly until the head is prodding her opening. 

“This what you want?” He forces the words through his teeth, burning with temptation to drive in, but he wants her to beg for every inch of him.

“Yes,” she says with a sob, as though she’s confessing to murder. 

“Say, ‘Malfoy, I’m a filthy whore. Please fuck my needy cunt.’”

Her jaw trembles and she looks ready to start bawling, but her eyes are glazed with desperation. 

“Malfoy — I’m — “ she chokes and her throat dips several times. “I’m a filthy whore.” Her voice wavers. “Please –– fuck my needy cunt.”

“Good girl.” 

He slams into her up to the hilt and groans. She’s hot, liquid velvet, gripping him, urging him deeper, harder, faster. The rush of her pulsing core is rapture. 

He thrusts again. She is a sinful ascendancy. Her face is pale and scarlet-cheeked with shame as she surrenders to his debauchery after pleading for degradation. 

A wave of bliss swallows him as he sheaths himself inside her again. She clenches tight and desperate around him. She’s better than whores, better than drugs, better than the luxurious food he has become a connoisseur of.

The pleasure of taking her is incomparable. He groans against her throat. 

He is a curator who’s discovered the apogee of carnal existence. 

Granger. It’s Granger. Draco’s the one who’s found her, who’s tasted her, who possesses her. 

He thrusts again, hips pistoning as he pushes deeper and feels her arching to take him. He’s so deep inside her. He moans, shuddering and already nearly ready to explode. 

He pushes himself up and slows down. She’s panting and her fingernails are digging into her knees where they’re obediently kept. He watches her tits bounce as his hips roll and meet hers, the soft globes ripple, rising and falling, her entire body undulating beneath his thrusts. He leans forward, caging her beneath himself and wraps his tongue around a nipple. 

Her cunt clamps around him like a vise when he sucks. He wraps his hand around her other tit and squeezes before giving her a sharp pinch. His tongue continues to swirl and lave at the delicate nub, and he feels her spasm around him; her fingers are suddenly tangled in his hair, holding his mouth in place as she climaxes violently.

He stills until her orgasm fades away, holding back following her over the edge. He looks up, still suckling at her while he watches her face contort as she comes apart under him. Her slick heat pulses, gripping his cock, sending electric, fluttering spasms to race along his spine.

How many ways he can make her come? Maybe he’ll tie her down and experiment. He wants to feel every single one. 

He can bring her to the edge, tell her not to come until she has permission, and just keep her there for as long as he wants, feeling her quiver and beg until she’s mindless beneath him. 

His own personal slut. 

He thrusts slowly, trying to draw out and savour the experience. He toys with Granger’s body, discovering where she’s sensitive and feeling her cunt clench as she writhes and moans her under him. She’s so wanton, it’s glorious. He makes her to climax three more times before he knots. He groans heavily, his mouth against her throat as he empties himself inside her, filling her as she stretches almost painfully tight around his knot. She can barely hold him.

He comes so hard his eyes rolled back, and the pleasure burns like wildfire. 

He collapses on top of her, lifting his head and running his fingers through her hair. She’s in such a post-orgasmic haze she barely appears conscious. 

“Good girl. Good girl,” he says between pants. His sweat is beading on his temples and between his shoulders. She’s pyretic and as they lie entwined he can feel her heat right into his bones. 

Her eyes light up at his words. She almost smiles at him. Her fingers are still tangled in his hair. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. 

He smiles and kisses her. Her lips so soft and sweet. She kisses him back, giving small whimpers and pants when he nips at her. Her cunt flutters and tightens around him when he explores her mouth with his tongue. She clings to him, so desperate and needing.

It isn’t until he’s sucking on her tongue that he remembers that he doesn’t kiss whores. Kissing is personal and fucking is just sex. Granger isn’t even a whore. She’s a slut. 

She’s less than a whore. 

He draws his mouth away and processes the fact that her hands have left her knees.

“I don’t remember saying your could move.” 

The glimmer of light in her eyes instantly vanishes. It’s like he dumped ice water on her; she freezes, her entire body going tense as she quickly withdraws her hands. He feels her feet unhook from below his arse. 

He watches her wilt, sinking down into the mattress as though she’s trying to cower away as much as possible while he’s knotted inside her. 

She doesn’t deserve to act familiar with him. 

Eventually she turns her face away and stares at the far wall. Her expression growing more and more lucid. Not fearful, but devastated. 

Draco studies her with an increasing sense of discomfort before clearing his throat. “What are you thinking about now?”

The tip of her tongue wets her lips several times before her teeth catch it. Her throat dips. “My future …” she draws a quivering breath. “I’m thinking about my future.”

Draco chuckles looking down as their joined bodies. “I imagine you wish you’d been a muggle now.”

Her throat dips again. “No. I think Harry would have needed me. I think — I’ve made a difference. I — I’ve tried to. I just — there are so many things I would have done sooner — “ her voice grows longing, “ — there are so many things I put off, thinking I had time.”

There are tears pooling in her eyes. 

She wishes she’d been fucked by someone else first. That’s what she means. 

Draco grinds his teeth and pulls out of her with a painful jerk. She gives a small scream and curls around herself. He pushes himself off the bed and drawing his robes closed around his still hard cock as he sneers down at her. 

“By all means, waste your time pining over what would have been. I have better things to do.” He eyes her. “Most of them you, but there are a few actual witches on the agenda too.” He gives a quick laugh. “Don’t forget to sleep on the floor, Mudblood.”

He stalks out of the room and locks the door behind himself. 

Bitch.


	3. Prodrome

Draco goes back to Knockturn Alley that afternoon. He finds his favourite whore and pays double to make her leave her current john and come to him. Her cheeks are a fake red and the “arousal” between her legs smells like grapes. He tries to ignore it and orders her to perform all his favourite tricks.

She doesn’t even come within hailing distance of the high he gets fucking Granger.

He shoves his cock up her arse, and when he barely manages to come, he swears and throws her out.

He goes and drinks himself into a stupor before going back to his townhouse.

When he wakes late the next morning, his entire house smells like Granger’s cunt but he’s so hungover the physical reaction it prompts is more nauseating than appealing. However, his house-elf looks visibly strained when summoned.

Draco angrily banishes it with orders not to re-enter the house under any circumstances unless summoned. Then he groggily goes to retrieve a potion to deal with his hangover and takes a long, scalding shower while waiting for it to kick in.

It’s nearly noon when he opens the door of the guest room. Granger’s crouched shivering in the corner. There’s a puddle of arousal on the floor beneath her and a long, shining string of drool hanging from her lips.

She looks up towards him. Her eyes are sunken, dull and glassy. Her skin has lost its sheen and turned greyish. She pushes herself up and reaches towards him.

“Please — please, Malfoy — “

She doesn’t finish whatever she’s trying to ask him. She drops to the floor in a dead faint.

He isn’t anywhere near close enough to catch her.

Dehydrated. The bathroom is down the hall. Locked in the guest room overnight, she used up so much water dripping arousal, drooling, and sweating, that she fainted from dehydration. He curses when he finally figures it out and has to go all the way to the kitchen himself when he remembers he can’t summon an elf.

He curses her when he has to carry her into his room, after realizing that he hasn’t the foggiest idea where his elf kept the extra bedding.

He’s never brought whores into his house, much less his own bed.

Well, she isn’t a whore, he tells himself.

He tucks her limp body in between his pristine sheets, puts a wet cloth on her forehead, and tries to pour pumpkin juice down her throat without drowning her. He finally resorts to dripping water into her mouth with a washcloth.

After squeezing two glasses of water down her throat he sits back. “Granger, I’m not taking you to St Mungo's. Wake up.”

He slaps her lightly across the face but she doesn’t move. He waits ten minutes and groans. His room smells overwhelmingly of her need. Her hormones are filling his head like a drug.

His cock is painfully hard. He expected to be fucking her by now, not playing nursemaid.

He leans forward, running a hand along her supple body, sliding the sheet down enough to reveal her pretty pink-tipped tits. Even unconscious, her nipples are hardened nubs. He breathes heavily against her skin, and hungrily sucks one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His cock aches and he grinds it against the edge of the mattress. He palms and squeezes her other tit. It’s so delightfully yielding in his hand.

Granger gives a small, breathy sigh, her back arching as she pushes into his touch. He sucks hard and then pulls away. Her nipple slips from his mouth with a quiet pop. Darkened and erect, shiny with his saliva.

He’ll have to ensure she stays well-hydrated after this. He misses her shimmering skin. He’ll buy her juice and feed her slices of fruit as ripe as she is. Everything around her should be lush. He already feels drunk on her again.

He rolls her nipple between his fingers as he leans across her and lavishes her other tit with the same attention.

Granger starts shifting, her hips moving up as she seeks his touch.

He flips the blankets off her. She’s flushed, but her skin prickles from the cold. He slides a hand between her legs, hissing and marvelling at how hot and tight she still is. Her hips lift and grind against his hand. A thrilling shiver runs through him at the soft, enticing little moans she gives in response to his caresses. His balls are heavy and aching to empty inside her.

There’s no reason he can’t. Her body needs it. He pulls his robes off and climbs on top of her. She’s so warm. Warm, and soft, and in his very own bed. He’s never shared his bed with anyone. He holds her close, luxuriating as her silken skin pressed against his own. He had no idea it could feel like this to hold someone. He bites at her shoulders and neck, watching marks appear on her skin.

He kisses her roughly on the lips, delving his tongue into her slick mouth as he grinds against her pelvis and starts to slide into her. She’s wet and ready for him. Her bushy eyebrows furrow, and her mouth purses and twists against his lips.

He pushes in slowly, savouring every inch. He shudders from the sheer bliss of it. There’s no other cunt so exquisite, every sexual experience in his life pales in comparison this. His cock is on fire to fill her from the overwhelming sensation.

He pulls out and pushes back in, kissing her again, sliding his tongue against hers. Her cunt tightens around him, and he groans against her lips, thrusting harder. Her tits press against his chest, burning circles of heat.

“Good girl. Good girl,” he keeps saying as he slams his hips against hers.

He reaches between her legs and plays with her engorged clit. It’s so plump and touchable, it twitches with each squeeze. She starts whimpering and squirming under him. Her eyes flutter and open as he starts to knot inside her.

Her eyes are hooded and initially dazed, then horrified, and finally blank as he tugs at her clit and she comes apart with a choked cry.

He groans and comes with her.

He slumps down, but her cunt keeps fluttering and contracting around his cock. He wraps his arms tightly around her and feels her soft body mould against him as though she were fitted to him. His cock keeps twitching until her cunt stops pulsing around his knot.

“Feel better?” he asks panting, still trying to catch his breath. He studies her.

She looks nervous.

“You should hydrate now that you’re awake.” He reaches over and grabs a goblet from the bedside table. He tilts her head up and presses the rim to her lips.

She stiffens and grows nearly cross-eyed trying to see the contents. When she realised it’s pumpkin juice, she only hesitates for a moment and then grips the stem and greedily gulps down every drop. He gives a low laugh and pulls it from her fingers, refilling it from the pitcher and handing it back.

She drinks five glasses of pumpkin juice before slumping down into his pillow, her eyes drooping.

“Good girl.” He strokes her hair, and she presses her forehead into his hand as she falls asleep.

She was probably awake all night trying to get off enough to stop burning. Poor thing. He studies her face and traces his fingers along her body, teasing her skin and playing with her nipples so that her cunt tightens around his softening cock.

He slides out of her reluctantly.

He doesn’t kick her out of his room when she wakes again an hour later, her eyes glazed, desperate for him to fuck her again. He obliges her eagerly. She needs to rehydrate. He won’t be able to try out the extensive list of ideas he’s begun compiling unless she’s healthy again.

Once he’s checked them all off, he’ll throw her out.

His bed is more comfortable for fucking her anyway.

Once she’s rehydrated, he intends to call the elf and have the guest bedroom remade. Bars on the windows, a few shopping trips, and it will be an acceptable playroom for him to keep her strung up in. Letting her into his room is a short-term emergency measure. He isn’t intending to let her stay overnight and actually sleep with her.

He’s only going to keep her for a few weeks at most.

He spends the day fucking her gently whenever she starts panting and making her drink pumpkin juice in between. He’s nearly raw from the quantity of sex, but he can’t stop.

He decides that kissing her is acceptable. It makes her moan and writhe under him. He likes the feeling of his tongue delving into her mouth and his cock in her cunt, stuffed full of him.

Sometimes her eyes grow lucid again after he fucks her. She stares at him and gnaws at her lower lip, but she has the sense not to beg for Potter or Weasley or ask to leave.

He makes her beg prettily for his cock and admit she’s his needy slut each time before he takes her.

It’s addictive, how much and how intensely she needs him. He could probably make her do anything. The idea of it thrills him.

He lets her stay in his room, just for one night. He’s knotted in her cunt and too tired to bother with moving her back to the guest room. Keeping her with him ensures she doesn’t faint again in the morning. He curls around her warm body and there are no dementors in his dreams, no cold terror creeping through his veins, no tearing at the edges of his soul. Granger’s burning, slickened cunt around his cock and soft tits in his hands keep everything else away.

By the next afternoon, he decides she’s recovered enough for something more interesting than his slow fucking.

He tells her to hold still and splays her across his bed. He kisses along her inner-calves and thighs until she’s quivering, her cunt desperately dripping onto his mattress. He licks up every drop and moves further up her body, his tongue collects the sweat on her abdomen, relishing her sweet scent as he makes his way up to her tits.

She pants and her entire body begins shaking, but she stays obediently still.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers against her skin before sucking a rosy nipple into his mouth. He can feel her trembling as she tries to restrain herself, and it ignites a warm glow in his chest.

She arches up with a scream as he licks and sucks on her tits until he feels her entire body shudder and she climaxes. It’s incredible. He suspected he could make her come just from nipple play. 

She lies limp, her breath hot against his face as she pants and stares at him dazedly. When her eyes clear a bit, he leans gently over her.

“Did I say you were allowed to come?”

She stares at him, looking bewildered and gradually fearful.

He smirks and kisses her to reassure her. “It’s alright. You’re still learning.” Then he draws back and stares at her, his expression serious. “Next time, you will wait until I say you may come. I’m in control of your pleasure.”

She looks up at him blankly.

He presses the heel of his hand against her cunt. “This is mine. Is that understood?” His voice is hard. If she utters even a word of objection to the statement, he intends to beat her into compliance.

Her chocolate eyes are wide and decadent, and her throat dips as she slowly nods.

He smiles again and slips his fingers through her soft folds until she squirms against him.

“If you want to come, you have to earn my permission.” He swirls his fingertips. “It doesn’t matter what I do to you, or how close you get, you will not come unless I say you can. If you do, I’ll have to punish you. Do you understand now, Granger?”

She nods again.

“Say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

His chest swells when he sees her shiver.

“Let’s practice.”

Her expression grows uncertain, and her fingers tangle in the sheets.

A shiver of anticipation creeps through his gut as he kneels between her thighs, already hard as he runs a fingertip up her thigh. “If you’re afraid you‘ll come, you can ask for a break, but only if you’re right on the edge. I’ll start slowly.”

He parts her legs even wider so that her cunt is open and spread for him. Despite the thatch of hair covering her, he can see she’s swollen. Her hips roll under his gaze, and she’s already panting softly.

He strokes his fingers up and down her thighs for several minutes before leaning forward and lightly kissing the dip beside her hip bone. She gives a breathy moan, and her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging at it. The sensation tingles over his scalp and down his shoulders.

He kisses lower, along the hair covering her pelvis.

He should shave her. Based on the quantity, he doubts she’s ever so much as bothered to trim it. He wants to be able to see her arousal on her skin. If need be, there are spells to make her permanently hairless, but he rather likes the idea of spreading her legs and shaving her cunt to suit himself.

He can do whatever he wants with her. She’s like a toy. He’ll make her into a little doll, waiting for him, silent, dripping, and desperate until he fucks her.

Her skin against his lips is burning. He kisses along the arch of her pelvic bone and gently strokes her folds, parting them. She gasps, her legs twitching and spreading wider, and her fingers in his hair tighten.

His tongue slides out and curls around her clit, suckling gently as his fingers circle and tease her dripping entrance. Her flesh is like a rare delicacy.

“Oh … oooooh … god!”

Her cunt clenches desperately around his fingertips. He licks her in a repetitive, careful pattern until her entire body is shaking.

“Please — I can’t … “

He lifts his mouth away. “Good girl.”

He runs his fingers along her thighs for several seconds until she stops trembling.

“Let’s go again.”

She gives a small moan as he begins kissing along her cunt again and nipping softly at her clit. She only lasts a minute before she’s writhing again.

“Please … oh god! Please … “ she tries to pull her legs together but he holds them firmly down, withdrawing his mouth.

“Stay still,” he says, his voice cold, daring her to protest.

She stills.

He strokes her cunt. “Good girl. Just like that. Stay right there for me. Right on that edge. Nice and hard for me. Good girl.”

She moans and shakes, her hands tearing at the sheets and her legs thrashing uncontrollably. “I need — I need to come!”

He stops instantly. She sobs. It’s a long, wailing sound of anguished despair. Her chest heaves, as the sound fades into a broken whimper. When she’s quieted and lies obediently still once more, he starts again.

Slow circles on her inner thighs. He doesn’t even need to touch her cunt to make her quiver and nearly come.

“Play with your tits, Granger. I want you to tease your nipples while I edge you.”

Her hands rise up and start squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples between her fingers. She begins gasping rapidly, her chest spasming as she fights to breathe.

“Please — I can’t.” She starts crying. Tears are rolling down her temples into her hair, and her face is twisted as though she’s in agony.

Draco withdraws from her cunt and stills her, running his hands up her body and capturing her wrists, lying on top of her, pinning her beneath his weight until her breath is only gently hitching. It’s the most incredible feeling, to have her lying so desperate and helpless beneath him. To have complete control over the thing she wants most.

He pulled her up into his arms and kisses her forehead. “Good girl. You did so well. I’m very pleased with you. That’s just what I wanted.”

She huddles tightly against him, shaking and clinging to his shoulders. He hugs her more tightly. Her feverish skin has a beautiful glow again and he squeezes a tit, plucking at her nipple as he breathes in against her hair.

“Please. Please. I need — I still —“ Her voice trembles and she falters.

“I know.” He kisses her one more time and then slides her off his lap and stands. “Facedown. Hips up. Show me where you're aching.”

Her body is shaking as she kneels on the mattress and lowers her head, arching her spine into lordosis position. Her cunt and tiny hole are presented, framed by the alluring curve of her arse as it flares and leads his eyes up towards her tapering waist. Arousal is sliding down her pale thighs.

“This is just how I like you.” He runs his palms along her back and then grips her arse, squeezing it hard and watching it redden. His fingers trail to the dip and he runs his finger down to the tight pucker of her arse, teasing it thoughtfully until she gives a nervous gasp and clenches.

Later, he’ll do it later. When he needs to dominate her more fully.

He has plenty of time.

He slips his fingers down and dips them into her sodden cunt. She gives a throaty moan into the sheets and arches towards them, but he withdraws them without giving her the satisfaction of full penetration.

He strokes his cock twice and sinks into her. She groans and nearly collapses under him. He holds her in place.

Her cunt is already clenching tight and fluttering around his cock. She’s on the verge of climaxing already, just from having him fill her.

“Granger, you don’t have permission to come,” he says in a hard voice as he keeps thrusting. Long. Smooth strokes into that blissful, feverish heat.

Now that he’s had her for a few days, he’s more used to the intensity. It’s still incredible. Still addictive, but less staggering.

She gives a sharp, broken whimper as her body continues to tense under him.

He keeps pumping slowly into her, trailing his hand down her back, admiring her curves, admiring the way his cock looks as it disappears inside her. 

How is it possible that no one had ever noticed how much potential Granger has? What fantastic tits she was hiding under her sale rack robes. If he were Potter or Weasley, he would have fucked her years ago. Instead — he chuckles to himself — her so-called friends left her in her stuffy ministry office and didn’t even notice she was turning into an Omega.

Then again, Potter and Weasley were both too idiotic to notice anything until it hexed them in the face.

If she wasn’t a Mudblood, he would have fucked her in school.

She could have been popular. Better friends who didn’t require mothering, and she could have run the school. She would have been a far more interesting girlfriend than Pansy.

He groans through his teeth and mentally adds getting a Hogwarts uniform on his to-do list.

He thrusts into her again and notices she’s shaking as she rocks back against his cock.

The war heroine of the Wizarding world turned into a mousy, do-gooding little spinster. A nearly thirty-year-old virgin. All she had in her life was legislation.

No one’s even noticed she’s missing yet. Shows how much she matters, and what good having Aurors for friends does.

He groans as he seats himself to the hilt inside that delicious warmth again.

It’s all worked out for him. Now she’s splayed across his bed, already eagerly being trained. He’s going to make her perfect.

“Please — “

Her wavering, desperate voice interrupts his train of thought. Her whole body is shaking almost violently.

He leans forward and nibbles at her ear while his hand gropes and fondles her right tit.

“You’re so good, Granger. See? I take good care of you. You’ve earned it. You may come now.”

She trembles and relaxes for just a moment before shuddering as though she’s imploding. She screams into the mattress as her whole body spasms. Draco groans as her cunt milks him powerfully and he shudders to into a toe-curling orgasm along with her.

She collapses onto the mattress and barely seems conscious.

He curls around her, pressing their bare skin together and kissing her cheek as he brushes her damp hair away from her face. “You’re very good. So good.”

He wraps his arms around her and tangles their legs, kissing along her shoulder. Her warm, soft body is crushed against his. He pressed himself more closely against her burning skin until he falls asleep.

He wakes to the sound of her softly moaning and grinding against him.

He could get used to waking like this. He rolls into his back and lets her ride him until they both come, watching her tits bounce as she lifts herself up and down on his cock.

She dozes on his chest while he fondles her and when his knot softens, he locks her in his room and goes out to buy pastries from a French bakery down the street.

They won’t be something she can have every day, but she hasn’t eaten anything since she arrived, and she’s earned something. He wants her to be thinner but not starving. He’ll let her have treats occasionally.

If she can keep earning them.

He stops to check the paper and notices with satisfaction that there’s no mention of Granger being missing yet. 

When he comes back, Granger has crammed herself into the far corner of his room, near the window. Her eyes are bright, but her gaze is nervous and hesitating when she watches him enter the room. He pauses and studies her, growing cold as he watches her naked body contract as she crouches lower on the floor.

He walks slowly towards her, watching her tense and twitch with every footfall.

He stops mere inches from her body and stares down at her cowering face.

“Did you come while I was gone?”


	4. Sublimate

He kneels down, already eagerly cataloguing a list of potential punishments for her. 

He’s not interested in marring her. There are men who enjoy it, leaving bruises and damaged skin, but Draco has never seen the appeal. He likes his whores with perfect bodies. He likes to see skin and lips reddened, but he hates the appearance bruising has. 

There are other ways to punish her. 

He’ll start slowly at first, while she’s still adapting.

She shakes her head and her eyes dart across the room, past him.

“I — I started making the bed.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

He glances over and notices the bed has been straightened and one of the pillows smoothed.

A home. 

His jaw twitches and he feels himself grow cold. He looks back to where Granger is cowering on the floor, avoiding his eyes. She’s braced as though she expects him to strike her. Her whole body is tightly contracted and she looks so small, crouched there at his feet.

Her submissiveness sends a warm glow through his chest. He didn’t even need to train her for this. She already instinctively understands her place. 

He starts to reach for her with a soft sigh. 

She can hardly help it. She’s an Omega, she’s meant to be bred, which means she’s instinctively driven to make a place to be fucked, where she can safely stay if she ends up pregnant. 

The idea of Granger eventually pregnant in his bed has a thrilling primitive appeal to it that he isn’t prepared to indulge himself with considering.

Her tits would get even bigger then. A lovely thought.

He’s never fucked a pregnant witch.

He shoves the matter aside and looks down at her, returning to the situation at hand. His fingers are just centimetres from her skin and he’s fighting an impulse to touch her, run his hands and tongue across her bare skin, and comfort her.

He could be generous. 

She’s already terrified. He could pick her up and just sink inside that sweet warmth between her legs while she tells him that she’s his slut and begs and begs for his come.

However, she’s broken a rule. The first rule he ever gave her. 

It’s necessary that she pay for it,

He withdraws his hand. 

He studies her for several minutes, until she looks up, meeting his eyes and swallowing nervously. 

“Did I say you get to nest here, Mudblood?”

Her face crumples and she shakes her head. 

“No. You don’t matter enough to have a nest. You’re just a little slut I’m playing with. You don’t have a home anymore, especially not in my house.” He straightens and summons a chair from across the room. 

Her eyes grow wistful when she watches him perform magic. He makes a point of flourishing his wand as he puts it away and sits down, pulling his hardening cock out of his robes and leaning back. 

“Suck. If you make me come, I’ll let you eat. Otherwise, you’ll wait until tomorrow, and I’ll add another punishment.”

Granger moves slowly forward. He can see the reluctance in her eyes. She’ll get over that soon enough. He rests his hands on the arms of the chair. 

“I won’t force it down your throat. You get to do that yourself. Pleasure me. I may lick your cunt afterwards if you show you can be a good little cock-suck.”

She reaches out and takes his cock in her feverishly warm hands and begins slowly running the tip of her tongue along the underside of it. So lush… Fire is already coiling in his gut. 

Apparently, the little swot is still in there somewhere. She experiments. Testing which spots get the strongest reaction. She drags the flat of her tongue along the top of his cock until he throbs and hisses. She flicks her tongue against his frenulum and he groans, pelvic muscles burning, reaching out and tangling his hand in her hair. 

“Lick it later, I said suck.”

She slowly encases him in her slick little mouth. Draco gives a low moan as he watches the swollen head of his cock voluntarily disappearing between her pink lips, enveloped in that addictive warmth. Her tongue runs tantalizingly along the vein and up to the head as she begins bobbing her head up and down. 

Draco’s eyes flutter closed and he tilts his head back. This … every day. He groans when she takes him deeper. 

She isn’t nearly as talented with her tongue as a whore, but the knowledge that it’s prim little Granger’s mouth on him, eagerly trying her best to pleasure him, doubles his enjoyment. The smell of her is like a drug in the air. 

Slick. Clenching. Bliss. 

“Yessss … just like that.” He pushes her head down further until her throat contracts around the head of his cock. 

She jerks and tries to pull free, and he bucks his hips, sliding down her spasming throat with a groan as it tightens around the head of his cock. He releases her and lets her choke and gag loudly as she lifts her mouth off and struggles to catch her breath. 

“Keep going — unless you want me to punish you.” He doesn’t open his eyes, he just waits. A smile tugs as the corner of his mouth when he feels her warm breath a moment before her soft lips slowly wrap around the head of his cock again. She resumes bobbing. 

He doesn’t force her to deep throat him again. He leans back and lets her do the work. 

When he starts to swell, he focuses on the sensation of her warm tongue, still swiping against his cock as she keeps sucking and bobbing. The pleasure makes his toes curl and he grips the arm of his chair. The air is growing thick with the smell of her arousal as she kneels, subservient, between his legs. 

Slut. Sucking him off arouses her. He opens his eyes and watches her hips wriggle, bucking and grinding against empty air. 

It makes him come. 

He used her hair to keep her head in place as he spurts his seed into her mouth. His knot presses firmly against her lips, as though he’s going to force it in. 

“Swallow it,” he orders when he sees her eyes widening and feels her tongue pushing back as he fills her mouth. “Every drop.”

She hesitates, and he doesn’t let go. She begins swallowing, taking every drop of him. When he stops, he slumps back and lets go of her hair. 

She pulls her mouth away slowly, there’s a string of come and drool hanging from her lip to the head of his cock. 

“Good girl.” He pats her head. “Just like that. We’ll keep practising until you’re good at it. Clean me up now.” 

She glances around and starts moving towards the bathroom. He rolls his eyes and catches her by the hair again, guiding her face back down to his cock.

“Clean me with your mouth, Granger.”

Dismayed understanding dawns in her eyes but she leans forward and delicately licks his cock clean of all residual drool and come. Her silken tongue sliding across his knot and lapping him clean makes him spurt again, forcing her to start over twice before he begins softening. 

He pulls her up onto his lap and kisses her, rubbing his spent cock between her dripping folds. There’s something so addictive about kissing her. 

It’s because she’s so soft and needy. She wants to make a nest in his bed. She wants to stay in his house and have him fuck her forever. 

She needs him. 

His father was driven completely mad within a few years of returning to Azkaban. He’s still there, locked in hell with the dementors, gibbering and shivering and starving through his life-sentence. Draco used to hear his voice down the hallways. 

There’s nothing to be done for him. He doesn’t even remember he has a son. 

Draco could drop dead, and no one will miss him but the line of whores who regard his existence a steady source of income. 

Granger needs him. He presses down on her shoulders so that her ripe cunt grinds against his cock and thigh. 

“You may come,” he says, when she starts panting and shaking, her fingers grasping at his robes as she tries to burrow into his arms. 

She gives a breathy sigh of relief, bucking her hips a few more times before moaning against his lips.

He strokes her hair and feeds her a pastry while she’s curled up against his chest. Then he takes her back over to the bed and fucks her hard and deep until her eyes glaze over. 

He leaves her a jug of pumpkin juice, a bowl of fruit, and orders to touch herself but not come until he returns. 

He heads to the library. If he’s going to keep her, which is a question still under heavy debate in his mind, he wants to know exactly what it would entail. 

To his disappointment, he discovers that she isn’t going to stay the way she is currently. She’s in heat. Heats will last six to eight days and then she’ll go back to — well, not exactly normal, but more normal than she currently is. Her sex drive will drop and she’ll be lucid but still with an impulse towards subservience, and without any usable magic. Her magic is for breeding now, it will build and build inside her until hitting a critical point whereupon she’ll go into heat again. 

Depending on the magic levels of the magical being in question, it can occur anywhere from every few weeks to only biannually. 

Draco suspects that Granger might be in heat rather often. 

The cycle will continue indefinitely unless she gets pregnant. 

He’s also disappointed to learn that he won’t knot unless she’s in heat. Despite the inconvenience, he’s become partial to that aspect. 

He loves touching things. 

He’s always liked it. His parents had never been inclined towards physical contact. New brooms and candy and governesses he’d had in excess, but touch was rarely bestowed as more than a pat on the head to straighten his hair; a brief hug goodbye from his mother or his father’s hand on his shoulder at King’s Cross Station. When he tried to hold on and make it last longer, he was sharply rebuked and reminded that no one had any desire to be mauled by him. 

He dated Pansy for years just because she touched him and let him touch her as much as he wanted.

He doesn’t touch whores. Not indulgently. Holding them afterwards, playing with their bodies — pleasuring them; the bill afterwards always reflected when he wanted anything “extra.”

He isn’t interested in paying for an illusion of physical intimacy. 

Knotting makes touching mandatory. He has to stay in bed with Granger afterwards, still inside her, holding her as she lies pressed sweetly against him. He can touch her soft, silken skin, devouring her honeyed kisses while the walls of her cunt grip him. 

He stares down at the book, cold with disappointment. 

He should just get rid of her once the heat ends. It’s not as though he has any use for Granger beyond the heat. 

And yet…

He rubs his jaw. Maybe he’ll keep her for an experimental phase. Just to see what fucking her is like afterwards, and find out how often she’ll be in heat. If it’s often enough, she might be worth the trouble of keeping. He could always keep her locked in the guest room until she’s in heat again if she isn’t worth fucking all the rest of the time. 

There’s only one potential difficulty in it. As he told her, practically anything magical can fuck her and will try to. Her overstimulated reproductive system is ripe for producing half-breeds. 

Because the presentation occurs across nearly all magical species of varying levels of sapience, Omegas are not regarded as being a type of sentient being or entitled to any rights. They are pets. Whoever finds an Omega, gets to keep it. 

Granger is his; he’s legally entitled to her. 

However, Draco is certain that Potter and Weasley will not see it that way. If they find out where she is and what has happened to her, they’ll find a way to bend the rules and have her taken away from Draco. 

They would probably see themselves as responsible for her and, if they didn’t just start fucking her themselves, they’d probably take it as their duty to choose someone on her behalf.

Someone who met a set of criteria that Draco surely would be excluded from.

Draco slams the book shut. He can make her happy. It’s his house she keeps trying to nest in. He saved her.

If anyone gets to keep her, it’s him. 

He goes home and spends several hours adding wards to the house. When he returns to his room, Granger looks crazed. She has a pillow between her legs and is grinding frantically against it.

He stands watching her for several minutes. An idea slowly begins to occur to him. 

He smirks. If he does this right, he can keep Granger naked and desperate for him forever, in heat or not.

“Come,” he orders as soon as he has the door safely closed and locked. He wants to kiss her and fuck her slowly, but he forces his expression to stay indifferent. “Did you come while I was gone?”

She shakes her head. 

“Good girl. Get on the bed. Show me how wet you are.”

She goes to the edge of the bed and parts her legs. Her cheeks are stained red and she averts her eyes. 

Draco catches her by both ankles and spreads her legs wider until she’s fully exposed. He runs a finger through her slick and when he draws it away there’s a trail of arousal hanging from his hand to her cunt.

“Good girl. This is how I like you, wet and dripping when I come back.” He sticks his finger into his mouth and sucks it clean. 

She’s trembling with need. 

He waves his wand and summons a pair of scissors, and a straight-edge razor from his bathroom. 

Granger’s eyes widen in terror, her legs clamping closed. “I didn’t come, I swear!” 

“Calm down, I’m not intending to maim you,” he says as he flicks his wand again, conjuring a towel and shaving potion. He spreads her legs apart and drizzles the potion across her pelvis. She gives a breathy moan as the warm liquid trickles down over her cunt. 

“This — ” he buries his fingers into the wiry hair between her legs as he rubs the potion in, “ — is repulsive. I don’t want your hair in my mouth. If I want to see a doxy nest, I’ll look at your head. I want to be able to see from across the room how swollen you are when you’re begging me to take you. It’s no wonder no one ever wanted to fuck you before.” 

She doesn’t say a word. She holds herself as stiff as a board while he trims her with the scissors, only quivering occasionally when his fingers brush against her clit and folds. When he pulls out the razor, she makes a low sound of distress in the back of her throat. 

He glances up at her. “Stay still. When I’m done, I’ll let you come.”

He deftly presses the razor near her hip and drags it across, revealing the pale skin beneath. There’s something mesmerizing about it. He wipes the blade clean with the towel and repeats the motion until her pelvis is bare. He brushes his fingers across the soft skin and she shivers. 

“See? It’s more sensitive this way.” His fingers dance across her mons, splaying her before he shaves near her clit. She’s beautifully swollen and such an alluring shade of pink. The edge of the razor scrapes across her sensitive flesh, and her thighs twitch as she gasps and struggles to stay still. 

“Good girl. Almost done now.”

He moves down along the sides of her cunt until she’s completely bared for him. His breathing grows shallower with every stroke of the razor as he stares hungrily at her core.

“That’s better.” He drizzles more potion on and she gives a ragged gasp as it slides slowly over her newly bared folds. He lays the razor aside and strokes his fingers along her cunt, rubbing the potion into her skin until she’s silken, as though she’s never had hair there. 

“You’re so soft now. I’ll shave you whenever it grows back. Now, I’ll show you how good it is this way.”

He leans forward slowly and gently, breathing across her cunt. Granger moans and tilts her hips, widening her legs until she’s spread for him. He smirks and kisses lightly across her bared mons as she quivers. He pressed a soft kiss on her clit. 

“Now I can see how much you want me,” he whispers the words against her skin. His licks gently at the outer folds. She’s silken under his tongue and he moans and dips his tongue into her opening, tasting the arousal that drips from her. He nibbles up to her clit and then begins laving it with the softest, gentlest licks until her fingers are in his hair as she tries to grind against his face. 

“Hands off, Granger.” He pinches her inner thigh and her hands dropped away. 

“Please — please… “ she says, trying to roll her hips up to achieve contact. 

He draws back. “I want to see how hard you can edge for me before I let you come. Show me what a good girl you are and lie quietly while I play with you.”

“Please — “

“Not another sound, Granger.” He reaches back and grabs several pillows which he stuffs behind her head. “Now watch while I edge this pretty pink cunt. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Do not come.”

He kneels between her legs, pushing her thighs open until her knees are up near her ears, and studies her. She sits frozen for the first minute and then begins trembling, her breath growing short as shining arousal slides out of her from sheer anticipation. 

He leans closer and breathes in. Incredible. He moans as the intoxicating scent of her rushes over him. He brushes his cheek against her inner thigh and begins trailing soft circles along it, pressing a kiss near her knee. 

She gives a muffled moan and her head falls back. She forces herself to lift it back up and keep watching. He kisses slowly down her thighs and then strokes his fingers agonizingly close to her cunt. 

She gives a soft sob low in her throat but stays obediently still. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of her in heat. He leans closer and kisses her swollen clit. Granger makes a sound as though he’s strangling her. Her legs jerk, but she forces herself to still. 

Draco chuckles against the nub. His cock is painfully hard. He hadn’t expected to get so aroused shaving someone. He laps up the essence sliding out of her and then groans against her cunt as his cock twitches in his robes. Inside her. He needs to be inside her or he’ll go mad. 

He wants to feel her luxuriant heat wrapped around him as she trembles under his ministrations. 

He wanted to make her wait longer but he’s too close. He needs to come in her bared cunt. He wants to watch his come dripping out across those pretty pink folds and then stuff it back in. 

He sits back, rapidly pulls his robes off, and climbs onto the bed with her. 

He kisses her as he aligns his cock with her entrance. “Good girl. Good girl. You get my cock for being such a good girl.”

He sinks into her depths and she stretches and arches under his body. He sheaths himself fully with a groan and begins to thrust, urging her legs up around his hips as he drives into her. When he feels her fluttering around him, he tells her to come and knots the instant she starts to. 

It’s magnificent. It’s always magnificent, but somehow with each additional hour he has her, it feels more incredible. She’s all his. All these details that no one else gets to have. Only Draco. 

It takes the Wizarding World five days to notice that Hermione Granger has disappeared. Her wand is recovered from a hag in Kent who claims to have bought it off a hawker in Knockturn Alley. Granger’s friends defended their failure to immediately realise she was missing; she’d been sick recently and had gone home early several times due to feverish-ness, and they assumed she’d just taken a few days off. 

No one has any idea where she could have gone or who would have dared to take such a competent witch. Presumably, it was a very dangerous and dark wizard. A criterion that no one considers including Draco in. 

He keeps Granger locked in his room when he isn’t playing with her. He adds wards to his house until it’s barely visible. He could fuck her with her tits hanging out the bedroom window as she screamed through a climax, and no one would notice. 

He spends most of his time training Granger in orgasm denial and strictly enforcing his rules for her. He has her touching herself constantly, learning to reach that moment before orgasm and keep herself there as long as possible before calming and doing it all over again. When Draco is with her, he often spends more than an hour just edging her himself, toying with her body, teasing her and taking her to the edge again and again before finally fucking her. He likes experimenting with how close he can get her and how long he can make her stay there. If she keeps herself from climaxing, he’ll let her come on his cock. If she fails and comes while he’s edging her, he fucks her throat and forces her to wait hours to come again, until she’s nearly delirious from her heat. 

He wants the rules and the consequences of breaking them drilled into her brain before her heat ends. The thought of keeping a lucid Granger in his house, even without magic, is enough to make him paranoid. He magicks the windows enchants the doors and windows to burn her if she tries to open or break them, and sets wards to alert him when any door in the house opens. He locks up or disposes of anything that could be picked up and conceivably used as a weapon. 

He can tell when she’s coming out of her heat; she stops dripping so much. He moves into the next phase of his plan. When she’s ready to be fucked again, he softly touches her thighs and tits and plays with her clit for over an hour until she comes without permission, her cunt clenching on empty air as he instantly removes his mouth and hands. She sobs brokenly through her ruined climax, despair visible in her eyes. 

She needs to be fucked and knotted in order for her desperation to ease and now she won’t be. He’ll keep her burning forever if he can.

“Poor thing,” he said, hiding a smirk, “it’s alright. Suck my cock, focusing on that will make you feel better.”

She drops to her knees, still sniffling miserably, and sucks on him. She’s a quick study, she figured out the tricks to make him come in a matter of days. 

“Slow down,” he says, leaning back. “I pleasured you for an hour, I want you to go just as slowly.”

She slows her sucking. Her soft little tongue curls around his cock in gentle laps. 

“Just like that.” He tugs on her hair and lets her work on him for ten minutes before reaching out and starting to fondle her tits. 

He rolls a perky nipple between his fingers. Her hips buck and she moans around his cock, drooling.

“You’re such a good little cock-suck.” He thrusts slowly into her mouth as he keeps playing with her nipples. “It’s too bad you came. Now you can’t come on my cock tonight. You love that, don’t you? When my cock knots inside you and all the burning stops and you’re so full.”

She gives a small whimper and starts to press her thighs together. 

“Granger,” his voice hardens. “No touching. Keep your thighs open.”

She obediently parts them and continues sucking him off while he fondles her tits. He watches with satisfaction as her arousal begins dripping from her. Her pink mouth keeps sliding slowly up and down his cock until her jaw is aching. He makes her keep going until he fills her throat with his come. 

Granger comes out of her heat denied. Draco sleeps with her in his arms, gently stroking her tits and cunt, keeping her right on the edge but ensuring she doesn’t orgasm on his cock again before her fever breaks. 

In the morning her expression is still unnervingly reminiscent of spinster Granger anyway. 

“Malfoy — ” she says in a tight voice the instant she wakes.

He cuts her off. “I thought I told you to call me Sir.” 

She might not be in heat anymore, but she’s still a little Omega slut who needs an Alpha.

As far as she knows, she could be pregnant. 

She can’t be, but he doesn’t see any reason to tell her that. 

Her expression wavers. Before she can gather herself, Draco sits up. 

“It’s time for your morning edging, isn’t it?” he says softly. He slips a hand between her legs and teases her still swollen cunt. 

“No. Wait — Malf — Sir.” She tries to stop him but he has her on her back in an instant, his head between her thighs as he gently kisses her entrance. She reaches down and tries to ward him off, twisting and trying to pull herself away from him.

“I think I should shave you later today,” he says huskily. “It makes you so sensitive and soft. Lay still and keep your hands off now, Granger.”

He brushed his lips against her cunt and licks at her clit. Her thighs slowly fall open as she gives a despairing moan. He smirks against her pink, velvety flesh and begins teasing her with his tongue. 

He can edge her harder now that she isn’t in heat. But she’s also considerably less compliant. 

She tries to escape. She manages to break away and makes it to the door before he catches her, burning her hands on the knob. When he drags her away, she fights him, so he immobilises her and edges her until tears start leaking from her eyes.

He shaves her, and rubs an aphrodisiac potion across her cunt, layer after layer of it, and then coats her nipples with it as well. It will last for days and makes her sensitive to the point that he only needs to breathe on her gently before she’s quivering and whimpering as she struggles not to come. He wants to keep her so aroused that she’s incapable of thinking. He spends half an hour stroking her inner thighs and softly lapping up her arousal as it drips from her as though she were still in heat. 

He keeps her right on the brink of climaxing, watching her fluttering pulse and her involuntary spasms as he teases her and plays with her until she’s drooling again and her eyes look glazed. 

“Good girl. Good girl. That was such a hard edge and you held back. I’m so proud of you.”

He entertains himself by doing it over and over again, gathering her into his arms, wiping away the drool streaming down her chin and kissing her gently until her breathing calms each time. 

When finally he takes the hex off and she starts shaking. 

“Please — Malfoy — “

“I know you want to come. Not yet. Calm down.” He guides her head down to his cock. “Suck. Remember, no teeth and keep your thighs apart or I will punish you. Now that you’re not in heat, I’ll be strict. You don’t have excuses for disobedience anymore.”

He spends the entire day edging Granger and ensuring her denial routine is just as firmly in place without her heat as it had been with it. Every time he sees a glimmer of determination in her eyes, he has her bent over the bed and edges her out of her mind again. 

When she’s too needy to think straight, he lets her suck on his cock. Her hot little mouth is such a tease he wants to keep himself there, even flaccid. He entertains fantasies of training her to sleep with his cock in her mouth. 

When she’s mindlessly aroused, she touches him eagerly in a way he loves. She fights her arousal more than she did in heat, which makes it all the more a victory when she eventually melts and surrenders to his touch, begging him not to stop. 

Even when she tries not to be, even when she’s not in heat, she’s still desperate for him. 

He fucks her slowly and takes breaks every time he feels her walls start fluttering around him. 

“Good girl. Good girl,” he says soothingly to her when she starts whimpering. “I know it’s hard.”

“Please — “

“Soon. I just need to be sure I can trust you to only come when I let you. We don’t want any accidents.”

“Don’t! Please — please — ” Her voice breaks and tears are rolling down her temples. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Just keep your thighs open and I’ll be careful not to touch your clit as I thrust. That’s it.” He comes with a low groan. 

It’s not as good as when she was in heat. 

He misses knotting inside her already, but she’s still incredible. She still smells incredible. He buries his face in her shoulder and stays inside her for a long time afterwards. 

The next morning, she’s still so wet he fucks her first thing. He stays inside her again, lazily playing with her tits while he dozes. She’s quiet and less responsive, he cracks open a tired eye and looks at her. 

Her expression is drawn. “Please,” she says, her voice straining with emotion, “Let me go, Malfoy.”

  
  
  



	5. Vilification

He freezes, cursing internally as he releases the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He stares at her and chooses to feign ignorance. “Let you go where?”

Behind the arousal, he can see that fiery Gryffindor determination in her eyes that he despises.

She licks her lips. “Let me go home. I’m not in heat now. You can’t — keep me. Please, let me go.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re an Omega. You‘re not going to get your magic back. It’s gone.”

Her eyes are wide, and her throat dips. “I know.”

His chest tightens and he wraps his hands around her shoulders. She’s so small, already thinner. She sweat off at least a stone during her heat. He can feel her delicate bones beneath her warm skin.

“You need me. You need me to keep you safe. I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I? Do you think most people you’d have found in Knockturn Alley would take care of you like this?”

She shifts under him, shrinking from his touch and trying to twist her free. 

“Malfoy, please let me go.” Her voice wavers. “Don’t pretend you brought me here to protect you … I asked you to help me, and you — you brought me here and you raped —“

Draco sees red. His hand jerks away from her shoulder, and he slaps her across the mouth as hard he can. Her head whips back as her teeth crack against each other. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He wraps his fingers around her neck, digging them into the tendons and muscles until he can feel her oesophagus spasming. He jerks her forward and looms over her until his forehead nearly touches hers. He glares into her eyes. 

“How dare you? You liar. You wanted me. You begged for me. You don’t get to leave. You don’t even want to leave.”

He grabs her hair and jerks her head up and down in a nod. 

He draws her head back to stare into her eyes, pulling her hair until the corners of her eyes slant and her throat is so bared he wants to sink his teeth into it. He squeezes tighter. “And you don’t want to speak anymore, do you? No, you don’t.” He forces her head to shake. “You want to be obedient and silent. You don’t need to think, you need to shut up and do as you’re told.” 

He makes her nod again. 

Her face is turning blue, and her eyes are bulging as she tries to breathe. Her hands scrabble at the fingers wrapped around her throat, her short nails clawing at his skin. 

He bears down harder, sneering at her. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. Do you understand?”

He jerks her head up and down in agreement again. Her eyes are rolling back in her head and tiny rasping sounds keep escaping her mouth as she tries to tear his hand off her throat.

He pulls his fingers free of her tangled hair, still feeling incendiary with rage. “You should be grateful I’m the one who found you. You think I wanted a Mudblood slut to start pawing me in broad daylight? I could have left you there. I could have sold you. Don’t make me change my mind.”

He releases her throat and sits back. She gasps greedily for air and gives one long broken sob before pressing her hands over her mouth to stifle the noise. 

She has a red collar of fingerprints ringing her throat. One of her cheeks is scarlet.

He gets up and stalks to the bathroom. Fucking bitch. After everything he’s done for her; after all the time he’s spent on her. She’s so ungrateful. How dare she?

Maybe he will sell her. Or let someone else take a few turns with her. 

He could keep her heats for himself and rent her out in between. That would make her grateful for what a considerate lover he is.

She’ll beg him to take her back then.

He dresses and goes back to her. She’s curled in a corner, crying into her hands. 

He stares down at her, still seething. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day. You will edge until I return. When I get back, I will dose you with veritaserum and if you stopped it or came,” he sneers at her, “I’ll use a flogger on your ungrateful cunt.”

She doesn’t reply. He locks the door of his room as he leaves. 

He wanders aimlessly through the Muggle and Wizarding world feeling cold. He has no idea what to do with himself. Whores have lost all appeal. He planned to spend the day with Granger; he has several new ideas for edging her that he wants to try.

Hearing her panting with pleasure while he plays with her body, and having her suck his cock is the best high he’d experienced in years. He wants to keep doing it and doing it, pushing her a little further until she never leaves that edge where she’s so desperately supplicant beneath him. 

How dare she say he raped her? She’s come every single time he fucked her up until he started training her. Multiple times, more often than not. 

With denial, she’s even more aroused. She’s already begged for his cock more times than he can recall. 

Raped her? 

Lying bitch. She’s so overwhelmed by presenting as an Omega that she’s decided to project all the blame onto him rather than accept what she is. There’s an icy rage seething in his chest as he thinks about it. 

She has no idea what could have been done to her. How generous and gentle Draco is. She’s been an entitled bitch from the day she set foot in the Wizarding world.

She doesn’t even appreciate that he‍ saved her.

When it’s past noon, he goes to a bar. 

She’s simply naive, he decides after several drinks. His virginal activist-cum-slut. The pun lightens his mood considerably. 

Granger might have been book smart, but she has no idea how anything in the real world works. 

She’s going to learn though. Draco will make sure of it. 

He’ll show her what her place is. He’ll break her in, piece by piece, train her until she’s perfect. His needy little slut. 

It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be able to offer to take her back to Potter and Weasley and she’ll just beg for his cock instead.

He just has to be patient with her. 

He planned to stay out past midnight and let Granger fret over her punishment, but after several drinks, he’s feeling charitable. He has a long dinner and returns to the house. He even orders a second meal for Granger and brings it back with him. Her reduced weight is vastly preferable, but he’s worried that if she loses more her tits might get smaller. He can’t have that. 

He pauses outside the door and listens. He can hear her already. She’s panting and whimpering as though she’s still in heat.

A smile curls across his lips. Good girl. 

His cock starts hardening as he keeps listening to her breathy moans and whimpers. He rolls the vial of veritaserum between his fingers and then reaches out and opens the door, concealing his smile.

She’s on the floor in the far corner of his room, playing with her tits with one hand and stroking near her clit with the other. 

Her lip is caught between her teeth. She draws her fingers away from her swollen cunt and starts huddling more tightly against the wall. 

“Keep going,” he speaks with a cold voice. “Show me what a hard edge you can give yourself.”

Her head jerks up, and she stares at him, her eyes wide and fearful. It sets his teeth on edge. She averts her eyes, looking back down at her tits, and he catches sight of deep purples bruises wrapped around her throat and marring the right side of her face.

His stares with surprise and his stomach curdles. 

He didn’t even hit her very hard. 

He barely even squeezed. He only slapped her enough to make her stop lying.

Her skin is just delicate. 

Her eyes are fastened on her swollen, red cunt. She’s crouched against the wall, with her legs apart as she strokes her clit, rolling the little nub between her fingers until her eyes roll back. Her fingers slide away, lightly stroking her mons until she stops trembling. Her hand slip down further and brushes gently at her entrance. 

Draco watches her fingertips as they dip inside her slick warmth until he feels his jaw grow slack. 

He straightens abruptly and shakes his head, trying to clear it. 

“Come here.”

Her pale fingers withdraw from her cunt and she starts to stand. 

“Crawl.”

Her eyes drop, and there’s a moment's hesitation before she drops back down to the floor and crawls submissively across the room towards him. He watches until she’s close and then turns and walks over to a chair, dropping into it and waiting until she’s kneeling between his legs. 

She’s ghastly to look at up close. Half her face is swollen and discoloured in shades of purple and green and blue. He can make out the outline of his hand across her cheek and around her throat. It’s visually revolting. His cock softens as he stares at her.

He casts several spells to hide it all and in a few minutes, her skin slowly clears until it appears pale and unmarred once again. 

He fishes out the vial in his pocket and drips three drops into her mouth. 

“Were you a good girl?”

“Y — “ she starts to speak and then claps her hands over her mouth to keep the words in. 

The corner of his mouth twitches and he pats her head. “You may speak. Did you edge as I told you to?”

“Yes.”

“Did you come, at all?”

“No.”

“Really?” He stares into her eyes. 

“I promise.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is thin and desperate. 

He leans back. “Convince me. Show me what a good little slut you can be. I want to feel just how desperate that needy little cunt of yours is, Granger. Maybe if you manage to deep-throat me, I’ll believe you.”

Granger’s cheeks stain scarlet but she immediately leans forward and opens his robes, withdrawing his hardening cock. 

He closes his eyes and lets her suck him. God, he loves her mouth. It isn’t as intense now that she isn’t in heat, but she still feels blissful. 

His jaw loosens as he relaxes back into his seat and lets her work. 

Of course, Hermione Granger would give the best blow-jobs once she’s learned how to do it. All those O’s at school. The corner of his mouth quirks up at the thought. He’s had her less than a fortnight, and he can barely imagine life without her. 

In a few months, he’ll have taught her every trick the whores know. His own little Omega, who knows exactly how to please him without even asking; who’s constantly desperate to have his cock inside her.

She uses one hand to pump his cock while her other hand fondles his balls. He pats the top of her head as she shifts forward and tries to take his entire length down her throat. 

She makes a hacking sound and gags around his cock, drool sliding around his balls as she pulls up and then tries again. 

He reaches out and begins stroking her breasts fondly. “You want that orgasm, don’t you?”

She moans and her hips buck when he swirls his fingertips around her nipple and then sharply tweaks it. He lets her work for several minutes, enjoying the way her throat contracts around the head of his cock as she drools on him. The scent of her arousal fills the air. 

Her inner thighs are wet. 

“Suck my balls.” He pulls her mouth off his cock and begins languorously stroking himself while she slowly lowers her head to suck his balls into her mouth. His toes curl and his eyes roll back. He gives a long sigh.

Maybe he’ll teach her to rim him next. Enough denial and he could probably get her to do anything if there’s a promise of an orgasm in exchange. His mind wanders, imagining her little tongue on his arse, lapping around it and dipping inside him while he slowly wanks. 

He wonders how far he can make her go. Probably as far as he wants. He just has to be patient. 

They’ll get there. 

He slowly pumps his length and Granger keeps fondling his balls in her mouth until he feels himself getting close. He lets go of his cock and pushes her away with his foot.

He leans forward, cupping her face in his hands. She winces and he feels her tensing nervously. He forces himself to ignore that detail. He pulls her face closer and uses her hair to wipe her messy drool-covered chin, and then kisses her. She gives a low whimper in the back of her throat as her lips hesitantly caress his. 

She seems eager again, and sorry for being such a lying bitch. 

He drops a kiss on her nose. “Good girl. Let’s see how wet you got waiting for me today.”

He presses his fingers firmly between her legs. She fails to moan or push her cunt against his fingers seeking more contact. Instead, she winces. He stares at her. Her lips start to move but then she catches herself and presses them together.

He smiles. His orders from that morning have stuck. 

He tilts his head and looks down at her cunt. It’s closer to red than pink. “Too sensitive?”

Her eyes are swimming as she nods. 

Well, that certainly answers the question of how to punish her.

He pets her again, cupping the folds gently. “Well, I don’t want to hurt you. No sex in your cunt tonight.”

Her expression grows visibly nervous. 

He smiles. “Go to the bed. Facedown, arse up.”

She seems to have a dawning sense of what he intends for their evening, her face goes even paler and a ragged whimper escapes her throat as she looks at him, horror written across her face. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you think edging was your punishment for your behaviour this morning? No. That’s your job. You sleep in my bed, you eat my food, I keep you safe, and your job is to be wet and ready for me whenever I want to fuck you.” He gives a thin smile and draws his wand tauntingly. ”Bed now. Unless you prefer I have you immobilised while I do it.”

She slowly crosses the room and climbs onto the bed. Her hands are shaking. She lowers her head to rest one cheek on the mattress but then turns her face the other way, then she places her legs in position, her pert arse lifted high in the air. 

Draco crosses the room slowly and stands behind her for several minutes, just looking at her. Her arse hole is tiny and untouched. Below it, her cunt is bright pink and swollen, like a blushing halved-peach, her reddened core where the pit has been removed. An empty hole, dripping juices and desperate to be filled.

He summons the potion he uses on her cunt from the bathroom. He drizzles it down her arse crack and then uses his hands to spread her so that it slips inside. She gives a little sob and her whole body trembles. He watches and waits for it to sink into her skin and watches her flush pinker.

He lays his hand on the curve of her arse and strokes gently. She’s rigid with tension. He presses his thumb lightly against the pucker of her anus, tickling it. It tightens and her entire body shakes. 

He rests a knee on the edge of the bed and leans over her, his hands skimming along her satiny skin. “I was going to train you for this slowly over the course of a few weeks, but I’m afraid you ruined that for yourself. You’re a quick learner though, I’m sure you’ll figure out how this works. Isn’t that what everyone said back in school? Granger gets things right first try.”

She quivers, fingers twisting in the sheets. 

“Don’t worry.” He leans back and presses kisses along the sensitive spot below her arse where her thigh begins. There’s a warm sense of power washing through him. “I’m going to make sure you enjoy this.”

He casts a spell to clean her and her entire body trembles violently. He hears her whimper and watches her fingers tangling in the sheets, gripping until her knuckles turn white.

He keeps gently kissing and squeezing the globes of her arse until she’s softly moaning and her cunt starts to drip with arousal. He leans forward and flicks his tongue very lightly against the tight pucker of her anus. 

She gasps, her head jerking up, and she tries to lunge away, clenching. Draco had anticipated it and grips her firmly in place. 

“Don’t move. Your job right now is to relax.”

He runs his hand down her spine and feels her tensing and fighting not to obey, but she’s an Omega. She really doesn’t have any choice. 

The rigid tension in her body slowly eases, her fingers loosening where she’s nearly tearing at his sheets.

“Good girl.” He kisses her arse lightly and nips at the curve before returning to her tight little hole. An insatiable hunger fills him. He’s overwhelmed by the sense of greed he feels over her. He flicks his tongue out and curls it firmly against the sensitive pucker until it’s glistening, beckoning for more. He laps and teases her until her moans grow breathy and her hips move back to meet his tongue as she gradually opens for him

“Good girl, just like that.” He dips his tongue in, tasting that forbidden place, teasing the tight ring of muscle as she keens into the mattress. Her lower back bows more sharply as she tries to arch up further to meet his tongue. Her legs are splayed wide and her empty cunt drips onto the mattress.

He rubs a finger through her arousal until it’s slick and then presses it slowly into her arse. The emptiness of it lures him in deeper. He’s going to fill her up. 

She immediately starts to tense at the unfamiliar sensation. 

“Relax. Don’t pull. Push.”

She twitches and turns her head slightly. He can hear her unspoken questioning.

“Push, Granger,” he says firmly. 

She hesitates a moment and then pushes obediently and he slides his finger in further. His blood is beginning to pulse with building anticipation. He’s inside her. Soon it will be his cock, spreading her open where she’s so tight and untouched.

He’ll dominate every inch of her. After this, she’ll never forget who she belongs to or what her place is. The thought fills him with a savage sense of satisfaction. 

“Good girl,” he croons soothingly to her as he pumps his finger in and out until she relaxes again. He adds a second digit. “That’s it. Push. Don’t think. Just relax and push.”

He knew she was a fast learner. In far less time than he expected, she’s relaxed into the sensation and her little whimpering pants began to fill the air as he opens up her arse to accommodate his cock.

He intended to fuck her from behind, but as he listens to her smothered moans of pleasure he changes his mind. He wants to watch her face while he takes her up the arse.

He flips her, raising her legs up to rest on his shoulders and sliding his cock through her arousal until it’s coated. He folds her nearly in half as he prods the tip of his cock against the tight little opening. 

She’s tensing again, her eyes bulging and her expression terrified. 

“Push,” he says, kissing her. “I’m going to make this good for you.”

She gives a despairing moan and obeys. The swollen head of his cock slides slowly into her bowels. 

She grunts, her eyebrows furrowing.

She’s so deliciously tight his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh fuck … fuck … oh fuck, you’re so good.”

Granger’s eyes are squeezed closed, her expression twists.

“Good girl.” He slides in and out slowly, bit by bit, giving her time to adjust. “That’s it.”

He straightens, pulling her hips down until they’re at the edge of the bed. He watches his cock slide into her almost unbearably tight hole, admiring her empty, glistening cunt. She’s so aroused by this that her slick is sliding down and lubricating his cock more with every thrust into that degrading forbidden hole that he’s taking. 

She can pretend she doesn’t want this, but her body doesn’t lie. 

He pulls out completely and then pushes the head of his cock back in again, admiring the way it looks as she stretches around him. She grunts and gives a quiet whimper. He sinks in further until he’s moving easily inside her. He stares down, still watching himself. 

He’s fucking her arse. Pleasure is burning down his spine and into his thighs as he thrusts in to the hilt. His cock is on fire as he finally impales himself to the hilt inside her. He’s going to fill her up till she’s overflowing with his seed. 

He’s claimed her. Every hole. He’s been there first. Her first and last. 

Possessive triumphs burns through him. 

“You're mine.” He grunts as he drives in harder. Her tits bounce with every thrust, her body sliding up the bed from the force. “I’ve claimed every part of you now. You’re mine.”

She’s tensing around him, her face still twisted and furrowed. He leans down, palming her bouncing tits and tweaking her hardened nipples until she squirms and clenches. He gently draws one of her nipples into his mouth, laving it gently with his tongue as he keeps fucking her. 

She grows taut. Her breathing gets shorter and shorter, and small whimpers are forming low in her throat. Her fingers tangle in his hair, holding his mouth against her tit.

He releases her nipple and nuzzles her. “Come now, Granger. You’re going to come while I fuck your arse.”

She tenses, resisting. 

Well, that won’t do at all. 

He straightens so he can touch her more easily. His hand slides down to touch gently near her clit. She might be too sore for direct stimulation, but her whole cunt is swollen and dripping. So hungry to be fucked. His greedy little slut. He strokes her labia, running his fingers over her folds and her dripping hole. Teasingly inserting just his fingertips, so that she clenches as though trying to draw him in so that he’ll fill her where she’s aching. 

Granger shakes, as though her body can’t handle all the pleasure he’s giving her. 

She loves this. She loves it as much as he loves it. He catches her nipple with his fingertips, pinching and scraping the tip with his fingernail before gently rubbing it with the flat of his thumb while he keeps playing with her swollen clit. 

Granger trembles violently and her climax seems to break free against her will. She practically vibrates as she screams and orgasms, her cunt spasming and empty. She tightens painfully around his cock and he lets himself come, buried balls deep inside her bowels, there’s a pleasure like molten fire through his entire body as he spurts his release and fills her. 

It’s the most violent orgasm he’s given her. When Granger stops shuddering, she goes completely limp. Draco kisses her fondly on the forehead. 

“I knew you’d love that. I’m going to fuck you this way regularly now. ”

He stays inside her like he’s knotted, turning her so that they’re lying face to face on their sides. He pulls her close and peppers kisses across her dazed face. “See? I take good care of you. You don’t want to leave. Do you?”

She shakes her head slowly. Her expression is blank as she looks towards the curtained windows. 

Granger is quiet and submissive after that. She edges herself dutifully and does not come without his express permission. The only words that ever leave her mouth are requests to suck his cock or be fucked. Those are the only things Draco allows her to say, and he expects her to say them often. 

Everything else she needs is at Draco’s discretion to provide or withhold depending on her behaviour. 

She can ask to be fucked, but he chooses where he fucks her. Sometimes it’s her throat, sometimes her arse, only occasionally her cunt; it depends upon his mood and how quick to obey she’s been.

The weather has turned cold and grey, and Draco hates it. He keeps the curtains drawn and barely leaves the house. When he’s with Granger, he nearly forgets about the cold outside. Everything feels warm and bright when he’s preoccupied with her. 

He spends most of his days toying with her warm body. He’ll stroke her thighs and watch her quiver and moan and then gently suckles on her clit, drinking every drop of her arousal. Since the first taste, it seems impossible to ever get enough. He wants to live between her legs. 

He spends hours playing with her arse. 

He quickly realises that the pleasure he can evoke from stimulating her anally horrifies her. She’s so ashamed of her desperation. She blushes adorably and squeezes her eyes closed as though she’s trying to dissociate from it until she begins moaning and pushing back against his fingers. She fights against coming when he fucks her there, even when he’s permitting her to orgasm, which causes her to nearly blackout from the intensity when he forces her over the edge anyway. 

When she recovers, her cunt is still dripping with desperation.

He likes to conjure a mirror and show her how wet and swollen she gets when his fingers or cock are stuffed up inside her arse. How much she has to stretch to take him. How much she drips as he thrusts. 

Unless she’s being edged, her expressions tends to be either muted or blank. No more of that willfulness. She has no purpose beyond Draco.

He experiments with her denial, taking note of her varying behaviour. Sometimes he doesn’t let her come for days at a time, enjoying how increasingly needy she becomes. He lets her out into the rest of the house when he’s with her, making her lie beside him on the sofa with her legs open and her cunt spread while he’s reading a book to himself. Every so often he reaches over and softly strokes her folds and teases her arse until she laying there trembling, dripping onto the fabric of his sofa. Then he resumes his reading.

Eventually, she’ll start begging to suck his cock rather than keep laying there.

When she starts begging to be allowed to come after a week without orgasming, he punishes her by ordering her to edge without touching her clit or cunt. Her cunt and clit are for his touch alone. 

She’s left to finger her arse and touch her tits and inner-thighs unless he’s the one edging her. Sometimes he makes her lie back in his arms for an hour while he drizzles various potions all over her cunt and arse and tits, that tingle or makes them engorged with need. He gently teases her until she’s sobbing with frustration. Then he lets her comfort herself by sucking on his cock.

She goes into heat again in less than a month. Draco is tempted to crow with satisfaction. He rewards her by letting her climax every time he fucks her, groaning at the way she feels when she’s pulsing around his knot. He decides to fuck her arse and knot there too, but she cries and then starts screaming hysterically when he knots, even when he orders her to stop, only quieting once he can pull out. 

As punishment, he doesn’t let her come again for the remaining two days of her heat and when her heat passes he keeps her denied for another week, making her edge without touching her clit. 

He keeps her shaved smooth and smeared in aphrodisiac potion but does nothing but roughly fuck her throat until she finally begs him to bugger her. 

“Are you sure?” He hides his grin of triumph. 

“Yes, please, sir.” Her cheeks are stained red with shame and she can’t meet his eyes as she kneels in front of him. 

“I’m not going to let you come.”

Her throat dips. “I know.”

“Perhaps once I’ve come in your arse a half dozen times, I’ll touch that needy little clit of yours again.”

Her brown eyes widened and she met his gaze. “You — you will?”

He stares at her anxious, hopeful expression and wonders if she’d smile if he says yes. “If you please me. Get on the bed, show me where you want me to fuck you.”

She places herself face-down with her arse in the air. After a moment’s hesitation, she reaches back with both hands and spreads herself. 

Draco pulls his robes off and stands admiring her. Her bare cunt is glistening with arousal and her little puckered hole twitches eagerly. So tight again. It’s as though she can feel his gaze. He stands staring until she squirms. He leans forward and licks her gently, enjoying the guttural moan of pleasure that escapes her as she clenches, her body so responsive to him. 

He kneels on the edge of the bed and uses his own hands to spread her wider and laps softly until she opens more, her body squirming desperately. 

“Be still, good girl. You need this, don’t you?”

She gives a broken moan of acknowledgement. Her arousal is starting to stream down her legs as though she’s in heat again as he keeps teasingly licking her arse, never giving her quite the level of contact she craves.

“Oh god. Please. Please — fuck me.” Her voice is a fractured sob. “I need you inside me.”

Yes. She does. She needs him. It sends a rush of warmth through him to hear her admit it. He strokes her swollen folds as a reward.

“Of course. I always take care of my needy girl, don’t I?”

She nods and he shifts behind her, rubbing his cock against her cunt. She moans and arches her back desperately in the hopes he’ll brush against her swollen clit but he carefully avoids it. Once his length is slick with her arousal, he guides it up and sinks fully into her arse. 

She gives a low groan and presses into the mattress as he sheaths himself to the hilt. He gives his own sigh of pleasure. 

His whole life, it was all worth it for these moments. He feels complete. 

“This is good, isn’t it?” he asks as he slides himself out and then back into her. She clenches and moans. “You love this, don’t you?”

She doesn’t immediately moan again in acknowledgement. 

Draco’s jaw tightens and he stops moving. 

“Don’t you, Granger?” His voice is cold. 

Her fingers twitch in the sheets and she nods quickly. 

He thrusts in slowly and gently strokes along the curve of her spine. “Of course you do. I know, it’s hard to admit that you like being an Omega. A lot of them are fucked to death or get bred right off and then die birthing. You’re lucky to be mine.”

Granger doesn’t respond.

“And you are mine, aren’t you?” he asks in a pointed voice. 

Granger draws a soft breath. “Y-Yes … yes, sir.”

He smiles and pulls her up into his arms, kissing her cheek and squeezing her tits affectionately as he fucks her harder. “Of course you are. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m going to keep you forever and take such good care of you.”

Her temples and cheeks are damp with sweat. She quietly lets him fuck her to completion without asking to come even though she’s still trembling. 

She lays in his arms afterwards while he touches her satiny skin and nibbles at her neck, rolling her nipples until she whimpers and clenches around him, her fingers twisting in the sheets. He watches her racing pulse below her jaw as she keeps quiet. 

He wraps his arms tightly around her and relishes how soft and warm she is. She’s so obedient now. Just the way he wants her. 

Once he stops teasing her body, she gradually calms and her expression becomes far away. 

He wishes she’d look happier. 

It’s the one flaw. She never seems as happy as he’d expect her to be. 

He starts toying with her tits again until her eyes grow glazed and she begins whimpering and crying in his arms to be touched. He obliges by fucking her arse again. 

It only takes a day before his head is buried between her legs. He drinks her arousal and suckles her swollen clit until it’s twitching as she struggles not to climax but keeps begging him not to stop. 

She needs him so much. So desperately. It’s addictive to keep her always begging. 

After her next heat, he keeps her denied for almost two weeks. It’s nearly winter outside and keeping her desperate and warm in his bed means he doesn’t have to think about the cold. They just stay in their home where the world outside doesn’t matter. 

He grooms her. Trains her. Edges her. He needs her to be perfect and she practically is. So eager. Such a quick learner. 

The only thing that matters now is Granger. He talks to her constantly. He tells her how warm and soft she is, that she’s better than any whore he’s ever fucked. He touches her. He always touches her. He teaches her how to touch him, how to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders and run her fingers through his hair. Her fingers will brush up and down his arms and chest, and she'll lick and suck his nipples and kiss along his torso as though she’s worshipping him.

Even when they aren’t having sex, she touches him more than anyone has ever touched him in his life. She rests her head on his shoulder and curls against him for warmth when she sleeps, her fingers will entwine with his or play with his hair. 

When she’s not allowed to touch herself, she can’t seem to stop touching him, which only makes him do it more often. He doesn’t want there to be even a sliver of space in her mind for anything but him. 

She never talks about leaving or about anything regarding her old life. She barely talks at all. She just listens to him, her face buried against his shoulder and chest. She touches him, pleasures him with her mouth and body, and edges herself so that she’s constantly desperate and ready when he wants her. 

Sometimes she grows so desperate that when he comes back to his room, she’ll be badly burned. 

“Miss me?” he asks as he heals a painfully blistered palm for her.

She nods and he smiles. “I always come back, you don’t need to worry and try to come find me. It’s safest for you to stay in this room. Come here, let me take care of you.”

He holds her in his arms and edges her until she’s writhing. 

“I know, it’s so hard,” he says as his fingers lightly circled her centre. “You’re doing so well. I’ve been so pleased with you this month. Three more and you can suck me off.”

“Please — please, let me come. I’ve been so good. Please … please … I’ll do — I’ll do anything.”

Draco’s hand stills and his heartbeat quickens. “Anything?” 

He strokes lightly across the silky, freshly shaven skin near her clit and she shudders against him. 

“Anything — “ she forces out. 

“Will you smile?”

“Smile?”

Draco traces circles along her inner thighs. “You don’t smile. You’ve never smiled since I brought you here. You should be happy to be here. Will you smile for me, Granger?” 

His fingers move to the entrance of her cunt and she quivers. 

“Yes …Yes. I’ll smile.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up and a sense of warm satisfaction spreads across his chest. His hands move back to her thighs and up to her knees, as he stares over her shoulder down across her naked body. Her warm skin is pressed against his chest, his cock nestled in the small of her back.

She’s so much prettier now, after the months she’s spent with him. Thin and limber, hairless from the neck down. Her hideous hair has been potioned and bespelled until it’s silken and shining. Her skin is smooth, supple, and flushed with arousal. 

He made her this way. He took a lump of ore and crafted it into something divine. 

He’s never devoted so much of his time to anything before. She is perfect now. 

Her firm round tits with their lovely pink nipples are heaving as she tries to lie still as his fingertips toy with her.

He kisses along her thin shoulder and up to her cheek and nuzzles her affectionately. His fingers move back to her pretty, swollen cunt, dangling just a breath away from her clit.

“I want you to tell me that you love me.”

  
  
  



	6. Decorticate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, it’s getting darker now.

Granger twitches and tenses in his arms.

Draco runs his fingers over her pelvis. “You do. I’m the one who makes you feel like this.” He strokes her clit with the barest, gentlest touch and she shudders against him. “I take care of you and keep you safe, you spend all your time begging for my touch and my cock. You need me. You love me.” He kisses her shoulder again and cups a tit in his hand, relishing how heavy and firm it is. “Don’t you think it’s time you admit it? I want you to start saying it.”

Granger remains silent. He looks at her face and finds her lips are so tightly pressed together they’re turning white. Her entire body begins trembling. She draws her chin down and gives a tiny but forceful shake of her head. 

He feels something in his chest fracture. There’s an ice-cold, shredding pain throughout his body as though his soul is being ripped out. He stares at her, blood draining from his face, half-expecting her to take it back. It has to be a joke. 

She curls away from him instead, avoiding his gaze. 

He releases a low breath, feeling as though she knifed him. 

His throat contracts and he finally makes himself swallow. “I see.”

He pulls out his wand, immobilises her, and leaves her paralyzed while he goes out for lunch.

It’s freezing outside. Grey. It rains on him as he walks dazedly through London. 

He hates being cold. He hates being wet. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. There’s nowhere to go. No friends. No family. Nothing. Nothing but the cold. 

He can’t even go back to his house to hide. Granger’s there, lying in his bed. 

He should have thrown her out after her first heat. He shouldn’t have kept her or thought she’d ever be anything but a Mudblood. She’s nothing but an ungrateful slut. 

Now that the shock and overwhelming hurt is beginning to fade, he’s burning with outrage.

He goes to a Muggle restaurant and eats, seething, while he considers how to punish her. 

He returns to his house several hours later. Having had time to think makes him even more furious than he was when he left. 

She’s still lying on the bed exactly as he left her. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at him. 

Fucking bitch. He’s so patient with her, and all she does is take him for granted. 

Without a word, he drags her to the edge of the bed and arranges her body so that she lies, legs apart, on her back, her head hanging off the mattress. He stands by her head, watching her chest rise and fall nervously. He forces her mouth open and shoves his cock down her throat so hard he can see the outline of it as it slides through her oesophagus. He pulls back and then rams himself in again, holding himself with his balls against her face until she starts turning blue.

It’s safe to assume he has her attention now. 

He draws back and lets her breathe and then establishes a pace allowing her a few opportunities to inhale and gag every now and again as he fucks her throat. 

When she seems to have adapted, he reaches into his robes and withdraws a chain-metal flogger. With her head upside down, she’s oblivious. 

The fine metal glitters in the warm light of his room, the metal making the faintest clinking sound as the chains shift against each other. The supple leather handle is soft and smooth in his palm, nicely weighted.

She deserves this. 

He tightens his grip as he forces his cock down her throat and brings the flogger down viciously on her exposed cunt.

He thrills with vindication as he feels her internal recoil. Her entire body shakes through the immobilisation. He smiles, pulling his cock back and then shoving it down her throat again as he strikes her once more. 

Her throat contracts forcefully but she can’t move. 

“This — “ he whips her across the cunt again “ — is how it could be for you every day — ” he brings the flogger down as hard as he can. “ — if you weren’t so lucky.”

He draws his arm back fully and the metal whistles, whipping back and singing through the air before it slices long, savage cuts between her legs and up across her pelvis.

“You could — “ he thrusts and feels her choke around his cock as her body shakes again, “ — have been found by someone who would beat you like this daily while they fuck you.” 

Her pelvis is scarlet with blood and no longer shows many individual lines. He brings down the next several blows down on her inner thighs, watching the scarlet bloom in crisscrosses each other along her pale, sensitive skin and the blood sliding down, staining the sheets. 

“You and your friends ruined my family. This — is what you deserve, but I saved you and I take care of you. I’ve given you every pleasure imaginable and you aren’t — even — _grateful_.” 

He brings the flogger down on her cunt four more times before he drops it on the bed and pulls his cock out of her mouth. With a few pumps of his hand, he comes across her face. 

He stands beside her, panting as he glares at her. He wants to drive his heel into her face until he feels her skull shatter. Her cunt is stripped raw from the lashes and she’s bleeding all over his bed, all over his expensive sheets. Her face is filthy, covered in come, drool, and snot, still blank under the immobilisation, but her eyes are utterly terrified and there are streams of tears leaking out of the corners and trickling down into her hair. 

He sighs and turns away as he catches his breath. 

After several minutes, he feels calm enough to deal with her without feeling overcome with an urge to hurt her more. 

“See what you made me do?” He draws his wand and removes the hex. 

Granger gasps and jerks so violently she falls off the bed. She cowers on the ground, screaming with sobs, as she tries to curl into a tight ball. 

Draco sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down towards her. She makes a sound of terror that’s animal and tries to get away. He grits his teeth and forces himself to ignore his irritation as he jerks her up off the floor and into his arms, using his sleeve to wipe away the mess on her face. She gives a series of short incoherent screams like an injured rabbit as she shakes and keeps gasping sobs. 

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. It’s alright. You didn’t know how it could be, did you? You just didn’t understand. It’s alright. I forgive you.”

He holds her against his chest while she shakes and sobs brokenly, stroking her hair and rubbing soothing circles on her back. She keeps trying to draw her legs closed and then wailing and letting them drop open again. There are streams of blood trickling down her pale legs and getting on his clothes.

Draco kisses her forehead. “It’s alright. It’s not going to happen again, is it? No. You’re alright. Now you know. Now you know how well I care for you.” He wipes away her tears and keeps soothing her until she stops giving broken half-screaming sobs.

When she calms down and her sobs have reduced themselves to whimpers and sniffling, he lays her back on the bed and pushes her legs apart to survey the damage. She starts shaking violently and incomprehensible choking mewls escape her. Her chest heaves rapidly. Her hands shake as she reaches down as though to hide herself from him. 

“Don’t fight me. Let me see how hurt you are,” he says in a cold voice. She gives a small, drawn-out sob and drops her legs open, withdrawing her hands. 

The flogger has mangled her cunt. 

He didn’t even hit her particularly hard.

If he had and they were Muggles, she’d be ruined. There are dozens of deep, ragged cuts across her folds and the delicate tissue has been torn apart in numerous places, but fortunately, Draco knows enough healing spells to repair it and it’s fresh enough to be easy. There’s nothing so badly damaged to the point he’ll even need a healer. 

All of the skin, from her pelvis to the curve of her arse, is raw. It’s vile looking.

Her legs keep trembling and her chest hitches, but she remains quiet as he studies her. He draws his wand and she flinches. He mutters spells to close the deeper cuts and carefully sets to repairing the tears, sitting back every now and then to appraise his work with a critical eye. He wants her to learn her lesson. He doesn’t want her cunt to end up permanently mangled and hideous, or less sensitive. 

Finally, he stands and goes to change his robes before coming back to her. She’s still sniffling softly, her chest hitching. The sheets are so stained, it looks as though she’d been haemorrhaging. She’s a greyish-white colour.

Her eyes grow wide and terrified the moment he gets close to her. 

He clenches his jaw. “You’re alright. It’s nothing permanent. I’ll get a potion for you. Stay here and lie quietly while you wait for me.”

He still locks the door on his way out. 

Murtlap Essence, he decides at the apothecary, will be the appropriate source of healing. It stings when applied to open wounds and will take at least a few days for a full recovery, but it’s efficacious enough to ensure there’s no scarring or permanent damage. Granger will have brand new skin that is possibly even more sensitive to stimulation than before.

There are several healing potions available that repair damage immediately or offer some pain relief. Draco ignores them. 

It needs to take time for her to recover. He wants this lesson to stick. Otherwise, he’ll have to do it to her again.

She’ll have to lie quietly in bed, legs open, until she heals. She’ll need him to hand-feed her and help her use the bathroom. 

It will make her realise just how well he takes care of her. 

He buys several jars of Murtlap Essence and nothing else. 

She tries to suppress her sobs while he gently applies it in a thin layer across her entire cunt, as well as along the strips running along her inner thighs. 

He carries her down to the drawing-room while the elf is cleaning the room and changing the sheets. He lays her on the sofa and sits next to her, softly kissing her and running his fingers through her hair. He guides her hands up into his hair, she tangles her fingers into it, kissing him desperately until he’s moaning against her mouth. 

He carries her to the bathroom and kisses her tears away when she starts crying from the pain of using the toilet. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright. I know you’ve learned your lesson now. It’s alright.”

He’s fairly certain the lesson is permanently understood, but to be sure he mounts flogger high on the wall where it hangs out of reach but clearly visible from anywhere in his room.

He lets her rest for a whole day before he edges her, and he does it gently, only playing with her tits and suckling at her nipples. They grow stiff and she moans helplessly. When she’s panting and fighting tears, he straddles her chest without putting his weight on her. He pushes her tits together and rubs his cock between them, using his thumbs to draw slow, tantalising circles on the very tips of her nipples. When she’s crying with arousal, he stops edging her and lets her suck his cock until he comes down her throat. 

“Good girl,” he says as he wipes the drool and come away from her lips and kisses her chastely. “There’s my good girl.”

Granger is perfect after that. She is eager and responsive to him when he lavishes her with attention. She doesn’t object to anything he wants. Any remaining traces of residual resistance disappear entirely. 

When she’s recovered, he fucks her cunt slowly and gently, letting her orgasm again and again until she’s nearly insensate with pleasure. Afterwards, she starts crying and shaking in his arms, and he patiently soothes her, reassuring her about what a good girl she is, how he’s always going to take care of her and never let anyone hurt her. 

He barely leaves home except to go out and buy treats for her. He stays in his room, teasing and edging her until she begs for him. He loves it when she begs. She’s so sweet, he can barely keep her denied for more than a few days at a time before giving in and letting her come around his cock while he kisses her, drinking in her gasps and wails of rapture. 

She goes into heat a few days later and he spoils her. He lets her climax repeatedly every time he fucks her. She doesn’t try to nest, but if she had, he would have let her. He takes her from behind and tells her that she’s home while holding her tiny, feverish body tight against his chest. He keeps saying it to her over and over like a mantra as he fucks her. 

Tears begin streaming down her face. Draco isn’t surprised. He kisses them away as he lets her climax in his arms. She has an instinctive need to have a home with him. She’s an Omega, she needs a home, just like she needs him.

He wishes she’d stay in heat forever. The intensity of it is just as blistering and indescribable as the first time. He feels like he could lose himself completely inside her silken, swollen, warmth.

He drinks her arousal like an addict, licking her thighs and stealing every drop from her cunt. He didn’t know it was possible to feel so devoted to someone. His whole life revolves around Granger. Keeping her desperate for him. Making her happy. Tasting her. Fucking her.

When her heat ends, he intentionally edges her until she comes without permission, because she fights it as the orgasm tears through her unwilling body. 

Then he gets to punish her. Although he doesn’t hurt her much. 

He finds that he does enjoy punishing her from time to time, even if he doesn't care for the way it looks afterwards. There are spells to conceal practically anything. The flogger is only for show now, but occasional discipline with a strap leaves her skin so flush with blood it feels like she’s in heat again. He loves running his hands over her searingly warm arse and thighs afterwards and then fucking her. She can’t deny that she loves it, because she always starts dripping as he makes her count them out, despite all her tears. 

Discipline keeps her attentive and careful; it ensures that she doesn't start taking him for granted again. 

She becomes the most devoted little cock-suck.

When he returns to his room after going out, she crawls desperately forward and rubs her face against his robes where his cock is. He never has to tell her to suck him off because she does it immediately. She learns to suppress her gag-reflex and take him all the way down her throat. He leans there against the door and lets her show him how much she missed him. 

He leaves sometimes just for the sake of coming back and having her greet him. 

When the edging and the potions she’s on make her too aroused to fall asleep, he gives her permission to suck him off, and he wakes in the middle of the night to her hot, eager little mouth wrapped around his length while she grinds her hips into the sheets. He has her suck slowly while he dozes, and wakes in the morning to find her sleeping with his cock resting on her soft cheek, her warm body curled tightly against him.

He’ll have her lie on her back with her legs spread while he takes her in the arse, so he can look down at her empty dripping cunt and swollen clit as he fucks her. 

“Please — won’t you touch it just a little?” she says, her voice wavers, pleading while he fucks her arse for the second time that day. 

She’s been denied for nearly four weeks, since the end of her last heat, and they’re nearly to the next one. She came on his cock without permission, as consequence he decided on denial for an entire cycle and no sex in her cunt until he got to knot in it again. He only touches her clit when washing or shaving her.

“I’ll touch your nipples.” He reaches up and gently strokes the tips until she’s shuddering. Her cunt spasms, its opening small and desperately empty. “Is that better?”

She gives a small sob and drops her head back. “No … I’m aching and burning so much that I can’t even think.”

“Is it burning? I’ll blow on it.” He blows softly between her legs and she shakes, the muscles in her abdomen twitching.

“Oh god — oh god — oh god!” She tries to close her legs but he holds them firmly opened while he keeps thrusting into her arse. She’s tight and clenching delightfully around him, desperate as she tries to hold still as she’s been ordered to. 

“Shhhh. Just focus on my cock.” He pulls out completely and then pushes the head through the tight ring of muscle again. “Focus on how it feels as my cock stretches and fills your arse. If you focus on me rather than on yourself, you’ll feel better. I know this is hard. I miss fucking your cunt too.”

He brushes a finger gently around her opening and watches her body quiver. Her eyes are feverish with longing.

“Your arse is brilliant, but feeling your cunt fluttering around my cock when you try not to come, and having you tense and pulse when I let you climax — that’s when you’re the best.” He runs his hands across her beautiful, warm body with possessive satisfaction. “You don’t even know how good you are, sweet girl.”

Granger licks her lips and he can see her struggling to think through the fog of arousal she’s lost in. He coated her cunt in thick layer of aphrodisiac potion that morning after shaving her and made her lie quietly on the table so he could watch the potion sink into her clit and labia until they flushed a brilliant, puffy pink and her essence began trickling helplessly out of her. 

She was forbidden to move or speak, but just quietly wait until he chose to begin playing with her. Every time he glanced over, her entire body would tremble in anticipation. He made her wait nearly an hour, simply basking in her submissive obedience. 

He uses a fingertip to gather some of her juices and sucks it carefully clean as he seats himself to the hilt inside her bowels. There’s nowhere on her body that isn’t his to touch and fill. 

“Can’t — you fuck my cunt?” Her voice is tentative but filled with longing. 

Draco trails his fingers softly along her inner thighs and hides a smirk. “No. You came without permission, remember? We have to follow the rules, don’t we? That’s important. Right, Granger?” 

She nods miserably, looking as though she’s on the verge of tears. He leans forward and laps softly at her nipples for a few minutes before withdrawing. His balls are heavy and aching to empty inside her now. “Denial is hard for me too. Think about how much of my time I spend edging you so you can be like this.”

His hips snap against her arse as he fills her with his seed, giving a heavy moan as fiery pleasure ripples through him and he collapses on her.

He rests on top of her for several seconds, gently stroking her silky skin and luxuriating in the way her tits press warm and soft against his chest. Her arms wrap around his neck, fingers running through his hair. He presses a kiss against her temple.

“You should say thank you,” he says, lifting himself onto his elbows in order to look at her.

“Thank you.“

“Thank you for what?”

Granger’s throat dips. “Thank you for making rules for me and not letting me come.”

He smiles and strokes her face. 

She’s so pretty now, her face is smaller and thinner, which makes her eyes seem larger, framed by narrow eyebrows that Draco grooms personally. He keeps her on a strict diet and all the lovely arching bones she once kept hidden under fat are visible. She looks so delicate beneath him when he’s filling her up with his cock. His rubs his fingers against a jutting hipbone and then slides his hand up along her flat stomach. 

She’s lean to the point that he can see the outline of his cock distending her stomach when he fucks her cunt. He loves watching it happen, especially when he’s knotted in her. 

His little slut. His Omega. The mere thought still leaves him almost breathless with elation. 

He smiles. “You’re welcome. I’ll always take care of you, don’t I?” 

She nods quickly. 

He looks down at her pretty, ripened cunt, still empty and dripping, and his softening cock still buried to the hilt inside her arse. His mouth waters as he stares down at it. 

“Messy girl. Let’s edge you again before I go to bed.” His voice is thick and husky. 

Granger whimpers as Draco pulls out of her and softly sets to work. He uses his fingers to push his come back inside her arse when it tries to slip out and dips his tongue inside her honeyed core, lapping up her essence until he feels drunk on her. She writhes, her fingers scrabbling as she begs and begs him to touch her clit. It’s engorged and erect with blood. He ignores her, sating himself on her juices while his fingers keep fucking her arse, feeling his come inside her. 

He should plug her up so that it stays. His blood thickens at the thought of her always filled with him. He’ll fuck her and fill her until she’s so full there’s no room left.

There’s something so addictive about having her even more desperate for him after he fucks her. 

“Please … please … “ Her voice is broken. 

He pauses from lapping at her and wants to groan. It’s an incomparable thrill every time he hears her begging, even when she’s not supposed to. He loves that she can’t help it. How can he say no to her? 

He looks up at her. “You really want your clit touched.”

She nods eagerly. 

He pets her. “Alright, needy girl. Every lick is one day longer before you’re allowed to come. Agreed?”

She instantly parts her legs, splaying herself wider.

He leans close, his lips almost touching her neglected clit. A shiver of anticipation creeps through his chest as his mouth waters. He licks his lips. “No coming, Granger.”

She nods again, trembling. 

He laps once, slowly and gently against the bud, barely even touching it. 

Granger nearly screams, her entire body shaking. 

“One day. Do you want me to stop?” He doesn’t want to stop.

She’s so helpless. Controlled by a tiny bundle of nerves between her legs, enslaved and ready to debase herself for his tongue.

She shakes her head quickly, drawing her knees higher to expose herself more. “No. No — please don’t stop.”

Her glistening folds are mesmerizing. So delicate and soft under his tongue. Always begging for his attention.

He dips his head down and suckles gently. Her clit twitches against his tongue as she shudders. She’s so close but holding herself back because she wants his touch so much. 

“Two days.”

He licks slowly and lightly from her core up to the throbbing, engorged bundle of nerves. Her stomach muscles spasm and she groans as though he’s torturing her. 

He stops. “Three.”

She tilts her pelvis towards him. “Please ... Please ...”

He smiles and kisses her clit tenderly. 

He pauses, withdrawing, and counting each touch. She barely seems to breathe as she shakes and pleads for a little more. 

He keeps going and going. One soft, teasing lick after another. Waiting in between so that she’s never close enough that she accidentally comes. 

She gives him days and days of denial in exchange for his tongue’s caress. 

When she calms, late in the evening, he informs her that she’s given up orgasming through her next two heats. Her face turns pale and her expression is strained but she doesn’t protest or deny it. 

She presses herself against his body, curled tightly while she’s falling asleep. 

He doesn’t have any intention of actually denying her through her heats, although he isn't going to tell her that yet. The glorious sensation of her pulsing climax as he knots inside her is too rare a pleasure to sacrifice. 

He’ll never give it up. If he could find a way to keep her in heat permanently, he’d do it. 

He brings her flowers the next day. She says ‘thank you’ but her expression is solemn as she accepts them. 

“Smile, Granger.”

She looked up at him sharply, eyes widening as her shoulders draw up. 

His jaw tenses but he strokes her long silken hair, twisting a lock in his fingers. “I want you to smile. You’re happy here, aren’t you? You love being here with me. You should smile.”

Her jaw trembles. She reminds him of a small dog at times, her entire body will shake for no discernible reason. He thought perhaps it was because she’s always naked, but he keeps their room warm and keeps piles of blankets and throws are strewn across the thick rugs. There’s no reason for her to be cold. 

Draco’s throat tightens. “You do like being here, don’t you?”

She draws a quick breath and a smile blooms across her face. “Yes. Yes, of course I like being here. I — I love being here.”

Draco grins, his heart singing as he pulls her closer, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead as he pets the apex of her legs. “Of course you do. I take care of you. Most men wouldn’t give an Omega flowers, would they?”

She looks down at the posy in her hands. “No. I’m lucky. You always take care of me.”

He conjures a vase and she spends several minutes arranging the flowers in it. When she steps back, studying them, he leans back in his chair, spreading his legs. 

“Why don’t you show me how much you like them?”

She sucks his cock slowly for half an hour. Her mouth so warm and soft around him. It’s slow rapture to spill down her throat. She swallows his come and cleans him with her tongue. 

When she sits back, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingertips, she catches his eye. He raises an eyebrow. 

After a moment’s hesitation, a smile curves shyly across her lips.

He can’t help but spoil her when she smiles. The room becomes filled with flowers. He buys her demure white knickers, the only clothing she’s permitted. The wet spots show through lewdly, showing off what a dirty little slut she is. He edges her through the fabric sometimes. He enjoys the additional anticipation of slowly sliding his hand in or pushing them aside in order to finger her and check how wet she is.

He buys her a collar; a demure band of intricate, goblin-wrought silver that only he can remove. She stares, her eyes round and disbelieving when he presents it to her, and touches it constantly after he locks it around the base of her throat. 

Their room is overflowing with soft, warm bedding and fabric for him to pin her down and ravish her on.

He edges and denies her until she’s so desperate she agrees to pierce her nipples. He’ll let her have an orgasm again if she promises he can have them pierced. She’s still in a haze of desperation when he restrains her and brings in a Muggle he confunded from the tattoo shop nearby. 

In a matter of minutes, Granger is softly sobbing, her tits adorned with silver bars through each nipple. When the Muggle is obliviated and gone, Draco casts an immediate healing charm on the piercings. He doesn’t have any intention of waiting weeks to play with them. As he’d hopes, her already sensitive tits are even more sensitive pierced. He rewards her with her promised orgasm by toying with the bars, flicking his tongue against them, and gently tugging as he strokes her swollen clit. She nearly hyperventilates from the intensity of her climax. 

He buys her jewellery. Rings and bars for her tits, dangling ornaments and chains that attach to them. The jewellery swings as she sucks him off, the chains brushing across her sensitive skin until she’s moaning and drooling around his cock as she struggles to fight off her orgasm.

He entertains the idea of piercing her clit and cunt and decorating them too. Perhaps he’ll keep her prettily laced up with a green ribbon to keep her fingers away when she’s on no-touch. 

However, he enjoys how innocent her cunt appears unmodified. Bare and pink and swollen. 

There are plenty of ornaments he can decorate it with that don’t require piercings. Clips and covers for her clit, little things that dangle between her thighs so that every movement is a caress. 

She smiles now. 

The sight of it is like liquid gold. 

Whenever he brings her a present or treat, she smiles at him. When he lets her suck him off, she smiles. When he lets her come, she smiles. 

Yet… there never seems to be a light in her eyes. 

Her mouth smiles but her eyes do not. He’s certain that her eyes used to light up when she smiled in school. 

He tells her she’s allowed to speak without permission, but she still stays quiet unless he’s edging her to the point that she starts begging. 

When she goes into heat every few weeks, she never nests, although he begins to hope that she will. 

He buys her piles of expensive silks and furs, the finest sheets, lavish duvets and pillows, cashmere throws and dozens of eiderdown to encourage her. She doesn’t touch them. 

She never nests, no matter how deep into her heat she sinks. 

He replaces the mirror in his room so that he can watch her when he isn’t there. He’s disappointed to discover that when she isn’t edging she just sits listlessly by the windows, like a sad caged bird. She doesn’t touch any of her presents or curl up in any of the decadent bedding he’s bought her.

Her fingers hover near the burning glass, her expression is sad as she stares down at the street below.

However, as soon as he reappears, she smiles, she crawls submissively forward and sucks his cock eagerly. She thanks him for coming in her mouth and asks him to edge her. 

She does all the things he wants with a smile on her face. 

But the instant he locks the door behind him, the smile vanishes and she creeps into a corner and curls into a dejected heap. 

He wants her to be happy. 

He’s pleased by how much she misses him, but witnessing how depressed she is when she’s alone sits like acid in his gut. The thought begins to eat at him. 

He spends more time with her. But her eyes never seem to light up the way he keeps hoping they will, and she’s still melancholy when alone.

He fucks her cunt and lets her come around his cock as he fills her with his seed. While she’s recovering and trying to catch her breath, he wraps his arms around her shoulders, kissing across her cheeks. “I love you.”

Her expression flickers. She draws a ragged breath and curls inward, as though the words have struck her like physical blows. 

His jaw tenses. He watches her expression carefully as she stares up at him, her eyes wide and almost terrified looking. 

“I — “ she’s too overwhelmed to speak for several seconds, “I love — you too … I do.“ She seems to be on the verge of tears. “I — love you too.”

Relief floods through him and he grins and kisses her forehead. “I know. I know you do.”

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she nods. 

He tells her he loves her when he fucks her and when she sucks his cock. He croons it to her over and over when he holds her in his arms and edges her.

I love you. I love you, Granger, he tells her when he holds her warm, delicate body tightly in his arms and buries himself inside her. 

She whispers it back, softly, almost shaking with emotion every time. As though she barely knows how to put what they have into words. 

He decides to let her have books. She loved books in school. He doesn’t give her many, a few Muggle books that he regards as harmless. She gasps when he gives them to her, her eyes growing huge. 

She runs her fingers possessively over the gilded covers in a far more attentive way than she ever touched any of his previous gifts.

He’s pleased to find that she is less listless when he leaves her with books. 

But he quickly finds that he doesn’t like her reading. If she’s reading, she isn’t thinking about him, about how aroused she is, or about how much she wants his cock. 

He comes back while she’s reading, and although she immediately leaves the book and crawls eagerly to him, when he slides his hand into her knickers to inspect her cunt, he finds that she’s barely wet. 

He picks up the book, summons the rest, and sets them all on fire in the bathtub. 

Granger doesn’t say a word in protest, although her dark eyes are so wide he can see the orange flames swimming in them. She stares for only a moment and turns away, sinking to her knees and sucking his cock while he stands watching the paper burn. 

Afterwards, he rewards her by shaving her cunt soft and bare and then coating her skin in aphrodisiac potion until she’s writhing, teasing her clit and arse until she’s desperate again, the way he needs her to always be.

She doesn’t smile any less after he takes her books away.

But she still lapses into deep melancholy whenever he goes out.

Another heat comes. 

Granger doesn’t nest. In fact, he realises as he watches her through the mirror, that she never so much as touches the bedding he’s strewn around the room for her unless ordered to. She huddles in corners. She sits by the window. 

She only gets onto the bed when he sends her there.

It dawns on him with sinking horror why she’s unhappy. She still thinks he might not let her stay; that their bed isn’t hers. He told her at the very beginning that it wasn’t for her. That his home wasn’t her home, that he might sell her off, that he’d only keep her as long as she pleased him. When she’d tried to nest, he’d punished her until the impulse was rooted out. 

No wonder it’s so hard for her to admit she loves him. 

Before the heat ends, he goes and finds her. She’s dazed and edging obediently in a bare corner of his room. Her skin is shimmering with sweat, her little silver collar glitters around her throat. 

He has to make her happy. Even if she doesn’t know what she wants, he does. 

He carries her into bed and once she’s begging for him, he makes love to her, slowly, and lets her come on his cock again and again. She’s so ripe, slick and supple, her feverishly scalding core squeezing exquisitely around his knot as pleasure shudders through him. 

He kisses her while she lies gasping under him. When her eyes clear and she becomes lucid in the afterglow, he strokes her hair, nuzzling their faces together. “I’m going to make you happy.”

She stares at him uncomprehendingly. “I — I am happy.”

He kisses the tip of her nose and then between her eyes. “I know, but I’m going to make you happier. I’m going to let you get pregnant.”


	7. Provocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since readers asked for more trigger-warning details: there is some abuse during pregnancy, no warnings for miscarriage or child abuse.

Granger freezes under him, her body going stiff as though he’s petrified her. 

He watches her expression carefully. Her liquid eyes grow larger and larger until the whites of them are glaring. 

Finally she makes a broken gasping sound in the back of her throat. “You — you’re what?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up and he nuzzles their faces together again. Her cunt is soft and still fluttering around his cock, the heat of her feverish body radiating through him. 

“I’m going to let you get pregnant. You can make a nest here in our bed, and have a baby. Then you’ll be happy.”

Granger seems nearly speechless with shock. “But — but — but — “ her voice is fractured, “ — I’m a Muggleborn.”

Draco feels tempted to laugh at how stunned she is. A wave of affection rises through him and he feels as though he could kiss her to death. He loves her with such intensity. He didn’t know it was possible to be so entirely overwhelmed by someone. He gathers her closer until her tits are crushed against his chest and peppers her face with kisses. 

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my Omega. I have to take care of you.”

She starts shaking and those incoherent mewling sounds start forming in her throat. Like she’s trying to speak but it’s too much for her.

Draco gathers her against his chest, resting his head against hers. “Shhh. Shhhh. Shhhhh. It’s alright. I know you’re overwhelmed.”

She bursts into tears. He kisses them all away, tasting them. Salty, sweet, with just a hint of bitter undertones. Like some rare intricate delicacy

Everything about her is incredible. She doesn’t even realise how special she is. He shudders and captures her lips, delving into the velvet warmth with his tongue, plundering her mouth until he feels his cock twitch and he manages to comes inside her again with a low groan.

He sighs and presses his forehead against hers and realises she’s still crying and trying to talk.

“But if I have a baby — it won’t be the same.” Her voice wobbles. “I won’t be able to edge — “

Draco chuckles. “I’ll have a house-elf to take care of it. Everything will be just the same, you’ll just have a baby to keep you company during your spare time. You’ll still edge and suck my cock and stay my good girl. But when I go away, you won’t be alone. Don’t worry. Nothing will change.”

Draco cradles her face in his hands. Granger whimpers and seems ready to hyperventilate. 

“B-but I — my body will change. I won’t – I won’t be skinny the way you like.” 

Draco can’t believe how convinced she is that he’d never let her have a baby. No wonder she never nested. 

“I’ll still want you, even when your body is different. Once you’d given birth, there are spells and things I’ll have done to make you the way you were before. Don’t worry. I’m not going to stop wanting you when you’re pregnant or afterwards. It won’t be anything that magic can’t fix.”

“But — “

Draco firmly cuts her off. “I’m going to get you pregnant. Stop worrying. I don’t need you to think it through for me. I’m not going to change my mind. If you want something to think about, you can think about ways of showing me how grateful you are. How about that?”

Her chest keeps hitching in sharp spasming little jerks, and her eyes are wide, “But — “

Draco's teeth set with growing irritation. “Be. Quiet.”

Her mouth snaps shut. 

He loves how obedient she is.

Draco squeezes her, stroking the tip of a nipple. “I know you’re overwhelmed easily when you’re in heat. It’s alright. That’s why I’m the one who makes the decisions. You don’t need to worry about anything. No matter what, I won’t change my mind. You’ll stay my good obedient girl and I’ll take care of you.” He looks at her. “Is that understood?”

Granger nods slowly. He nibbles along her hairline and breathes against her skin while she lies quietly beneath him while he rests, basking in her exquisite heat, her arms clasped around his shoulders the way he likes.

When he’s softened, Draco pulls out of her sweet, burning cunt and stands, pulling his robes back on. He glances at all the untouched bedding strewn around the room. “You can nest if you want. When you begin feeling needy, start edging again. Nice hard edges so you’re dripping when I return. I’ll pop down to the apothecary to reverse the potion I’m on.” He smiles down at her. “You may be pregnant before morning.”

Granger’s eyes widen. She still on her back, his come sliding out of her, pearlescent and mixed with her addictive essence. He leans over her, petting her cunt and sliding his fingers through their combined fluids, pushing it back inside her as he kisses the top of her head one last time. When he leaves, he locks the door behind him.

He’s been taking a male contraceptive potion for half a decade, and the potion to reverse it tastes and smells like vomit. Draco forces himself to swallow it with a grimace. 

Being sterile became habit once he started frequenting whores. His father had warned him during his teens never to trust a witch’s contraceptive spells, or her word about already being on a potion. A monthly potion of his own and he didn’t ever have to think about the issue or worry about being sober enough to cast a spell.

The reversal potion takes an hour to fully take effect. He goes for a walk, and steps into a bookstore, perusing a few books on pregnancy, and imagining Granger nesting and edging herself eagerly in their bed while she waits for him. 

He wonders if she’ll nest immediately or still be too overwhelmed to do so. It doesn’t matter, he smiles to himself. She’ll be pregnant soon and then she’ll believe it. She’s going to be so happy. She’ll never stop smiling.

The idea of her growing heavy with his child has grown increasingly appealing to him over the months. Her tits will grow. Her cunt will be more sensitive and swollen with blood. He can’t wait to edge her while pregnant. Then she’ll suckle their child, tits full and dripping with warm milk. Once it’s weaned, he may keep her lactating. One of the books mentions that orgasming can make her milk release. 

He gets hard just thinking about her tits dripping milk while she clenches and comes around his cock. He’ll lick it off her and suckle her himself while his knot pulses inside her. 

Her cunt might stretch, but there are exercises he can make her perform, spells to shrink it tighter if he wants to. In the meantime, there will still be her arse and mouth to keep himself entertained with. 

The books advise six weeks of abstaining from intercourse after birth. That will be a longer denial period than usual. He’ll have to start training her for it as soon as her heat ends. 

He decides to wait several extra hours to return. He doesn’t generally leave her for long during her heats in order to be sure she won’t faint again like she did the first time. But he’s left her with plenty to drink, and he plans to spend the night fucking her. He eats dinner, reads the newspaper, and notes with satisfaction that the search for Granger has entirely lost the Wizarding world’s attention. No one seems to even remember her. 

He’s sure Potter and Weasley are still devoting some kind of effort to it, but everyone else has forgotten the boring little Ministry spinster who spent years of her life creating additional red tape in the name of equality. 

He wonders what people would think of her now. There’s a part of him that wants to show her off. He wants people to see how fit she is now; how pretty her tits look with chains dangling from the bars in her nipples and looping up to her collar. He wishes he could see Potter’s face listening to Granger begging to suck Draco’s cock and thanking him for his come; to see her face-down, spreading herself open and pleading to have her arse fucked.

Once she’s pregnant she’ll stop registering to males as an Omega. It would be safe to take her on outings, provided it’s to places that no one will recognise her. 

She isn’t particularly recognisable any longer. Draco spends a few hours each week grooming her. Her hair is long and silken, not a frizzy rat’s nest but soft and nearly straight from the conditioning potion he buys for her. There’s no longer any excess weight on her. He keeps her limber so that he can fold her over into any position he prefers. Her cunt is perfectly groomed, always shaven and regularly coated with potions that keep her glowing pink and engorged with arousal. So soft and supple. 

So wanton. 

He loves laying her out and staring for hours, watching her slowly drip while she waits for him. 

She is a daintier, prettier Hermione Granger, whose cheeks and lips are always flushed deeply with arousal. Whose nipples are kept hard and sensitive with their jewelled bars, chains swinging with her every step. She is warm and soft as silk. 

And soon she'll be pregnant. 

The thought makes his blood thicken. There’s a vibrating sense of excitement that practically sings in his veins at the thought of fucking her knowing he can put a baby inside her. His mouth waters with hungry anticipation. Then there really won’t be any part of her that Draco hasn’t claimed.

He heads home and stands outside the door listening to her panting and whimpering.

Maybe he’s kept her waiting too long. He opens the door and she starts almost violently. Her eyes were wide and burning, and desperate whimpers kept escaping her lips. 

He considers telling her she can speak, but he likes the sounds. There’s a rush of power when she can’t utter more than delicate mewls and keening. She’s so helpless. She needs him so much.   
  


That’s why he needs to make her be happy.

He slowly begins removing his robes. Granger starts breathing faster and faster, her tits jerking and the chains glittering madly in the room’s light. She’s never been this overwhelmed during a heat before.

He’s worried she might faint. He hurries to her, drawing her closer. She’s shaking with anticipation. 

“Good girl, are you ready? Did you edge for me?”

Her eyes are swimming as she nods. He studies her and realises she’s terrified. 

“Oh, Love…” He kisses her and pushes her back into the sheets. “I’m not going to change my mind. I’m going to give you a baby.”

She bursts into tears. She must have thought he kept her waiting because he’d changed his mind. 

He rubs himself in her slick and then sinks to the hilt inside her ripe cunt that squeezes and flutters so eagerly. 

She gasps as he thrusts. 

“You get to come. Come for me, Love.” He lowers his mouth to her tits, fondling her engorged clit until he feels her shudder as she climaxes violently around his cock. 

His vision goes white as her burning core clenches around him. Searing pleasure rushing through his veins as he grips her close. “Oh fuck — you’re unbelievably tight like this.”

He fucks her quickly, bringing her over the edge again as he knots. He fills her with his seed, squeezing his eyes closed and feeling her spasm as he fills her. Her cunt milks him of every last drop as she stretches tight around his knot. She’s all full of him. 

He read that orgasming draws sperm deeper, increasing the likelihood of impregnation. While he’s knotted inside her, he brings her over the edge, again and again, groaning when her fluttering and clenching walls make him empty inside of her again until it’s painful to keep coming and he feels drained dry.

He’ll fuck his come so deep it’ll take root. Once she has a baby, her eyes will light up. 

When he stops making her climax, she lies limp under him for several minutes before starting to shake and make choking sounds as though she’s struggling not to sob aloud. 

Draco rolls off of her, onto his side, holding her trembling body tight against his chest. “It’s alright. It’s alright. I know you’re overwhelmed. This will make everything even better, I promise.”

She starts crying and doesn’t stop until she falls asleep, warm and feverish in his arms. 

When she stirs awake, her eyes are dazed and needy, he fucks her again. Heats are for impregnation. If her body is ready, he’s going to fill her with come until she can’t hold anymore. 

Granger still seems tense and terrified. Draco tries to soothe her as he brings her to an additional climax. “It’s alright. If you aren’t pregnant this time, you’ll get pregnant next heat. I promise.”

She doesn’t nest, so Draco does it for her, trying to recreate from memory the arrangement of pillows, sheets, and bedding, she’d created the first afternoon he’d brought her home.

If anything it makes her more wide-eyed and nervous. She huddles in the far corner of the mattress against the headboard.

Draco pulls her into his arms in the centre of the ‘nest’ and she jerks fearfully, her body straining away until the tendons in her throat are stark. He forces her to lie down, coiling his body around hers, he orders her to be still. “This is your home. You told me you needed a nest so that you’d have a home.”

He makes her stay there, kissing and fussing over her until she started panting. He fucks her in the nest.

She has more orgasms during the remaining two days of her heat than she’s had in the last three months put together. He brings her to climax again and again until she’s boneless and insensate under him. 

Granger is still nervous and visibly skittish once her heat ends. Draco puts her back on denial and reassures her while he edges her that if she isn’t pregnant, he won’t be upset with her, they’d just try again during her next heat. 

She just keeps crying over everything until he gets irritated and orders her not to let him see her cry again. 

Two weeks post-heat, he casts the spell. 

Pregnant. 

Tears started leaking for her eyes but she doesn’t cry. Draco praises her for being such a good girl and rewards her by suckling on her clit before taking her. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he keeps saying as he buries himself deeper. “Now that you’re growing a baby you’ll be happier, won’t you?”

Her shoulders tremble. Draco stops moving and waits. Her throat dips several times but she nods quickly. He grins to himself, basking in the golden warmth she radiates. 

“Of course you’ll be happier. I give you everything you want.” 

He tugs at the chains hanging from her nipples until she begins moaning, arching her back and tilting her pelvis so that his thrusts brush against her clit.

Draco is so pleased with her that he doesn’t make her stop. She has his baby growing inside her now. She really is his. 

As he hoped, her tits grow bigger until they overflow in his hands. They’re extremely sensitive to touch. Her areolas and cunt begin to flush a brownish-red. Draco tells her he doesn’t mind it, but privately researches bleaching options and discovers there are multiple potions he can use once she’s birthed. 

He spends hours playing with her growing tits. He barely has to work before he can make her cry with desperation and she’s begging him to fuck her. 

She drips arousal and he drinks it, licking her satiny thighs to catch every drop with his tongue.

But Granger isn’t happier. 

She pretends to be. When he’s with her, she’s perky and eager, sucking his cock and asking him to edge her, and doing everything she knows he likes from her. But when he leaves, she curls into a listless ball on the floor and doesn’t move except to dutifully edge herself according to whatever her current schedule is. 

She cries constantly when he isn’t around, thinking he doesn’t see it. Which she hadn’t done before. 

He assumes it’s pregnancy hormones. He can’t imagine what else she could possibly want. He gives her everything. He’s spoiled her completely rotten and spends more time pleasuring her and letting her suck his cock than he spends doing anything else. 

He employs the patience of a martyr when she develops morning sickness and can’t keep his come down. He even restricts himself to fucking only her arse and cunt after she vomits on his cock while he’s fucking her throat. 

He comes up with dozens of new ways to edge her. He buys her more jewellery, strings of pearls that dangle from her tits and slide through her dripping folds. Jewelled clips that clamp onto her clit and keep it more swollen and exposed. He buys her treats, tiny elaborate sugary confections; considering her weight when he found her, he’s certain she must be partial to. 

But she refuses to be genuinely happy. 

It begins to grate on him constantly. He can’t stop obsessing over it. He has done everything to please her. He’s improved her and made her attractive. There are witches who would kill to look the way she does. He’s patiently rooted out all of her bad habits and trained her. 

But she isn’t happy. 

He spoils her rotten, and she refuses to be happy for him. He’s letting her get pregnant, giving up knotting and the exquisite pleasure of her heats for the next year in just to give her the baby she wants, accommodating all her morning sickness, but she still refuses to be happy.

After twelve weeks he’s sick of accommodating it all. 

He wakes one morning frozen with terror. The dementors were closing in, their hoar-frost hands brushing across his skin until it blackens from the agonizing cold, their needle-like mouths dipping down, sucking, unspooling the edges of his soul as he screams. 

So cold. 

So fucking cold, his bones ache again from the memory. 

Granger isn’t pressed against him. He sits up with a jerk and finds her curled up in a tight ball as far away from him in the bed as possible. It’s the last straw. He reaches over, grabs her by the hair, and drags her across the bed. He shoves her down with her head hanging off the edge, and before she’s fully awake, forces her mouth open and shoves his cock down her throat.

She tries to push him back but he holds himself there and feels her trying to breathe around him, her slick throat contracting violently around the head of his cock. Her legs cross tightly closed around her cunt. He snorts and orders her to spread them open as wide as they’ll go. 

Her entire body is shaking as she obeys.

He runs his hands across her body until they’re warm again as he thrusts down her throat. 

She sobs and drools around his cock, smearing snot on him until he comes. 

He stands over her, panting as he pulls out, She twists and vomits off the edge of the bed onto the expensive rug, and lies with her hands pressed over her mouth as she tries to muffle the sobs she’s disobediently making.

He banishes the sick on the floor and glares down at her, breathing through his teeth. 

“I don’t ask for much from you, Granger. In fact, I barely ask for anything at all. But nothing I do is ever enough.” He sneers down at her and then summons a set of robes and leaves for the day.

When he returns home in the evening, he makes her suck him off, ordering her to swallow and keep it down. She vomits it up anyway, so he introduces her to a new form of edging. She isn’t going to be grateful, it’s a waste of his time to be gentle. 

He ties her to the bed, spreading her legs wide, and uses a small paddle to slap her cunt. She only yelps at first but then starts to sob as he keeps going. Finally, he orders her to be quiet. She keeps the sounds in her throat as she shakes. Her arms and legs jerk against her restraints every time his hand brings down the paddle between her legs. 

When he stops, her cunt is a brilliant shade of red and her wrists and ankles have twisted themselves nearly raw where he tied them. 

“See? I don’t have to make it feel good when I edge you. Do you prefer this way of staying sensitive?” He prods at her unprepared arse with the head of his cock and forces himself in. A strangled sound emerges from her mouth. 

“I don’t have to make any of this good for you.” He pulls back and drives himself in and then begins moving quickly. “I guess you forgot that, you ungrateful slut.”

The next morning, after he throat fucks her again, he ties her up and brings her bruised cunt to a hard edge while she begs him not to touch her there. 

“You don’t make the rules, Mudblood. I do. You may have forgotten but I can do whatever I want to you. You ungrateful bitch.”

To highlight the point, he summons the flogger from the wall. She starts screaming before he brings it down. The chain metal slices across her skin once. He flicks his wand to release her restraints, she curls into a tight ball in the nest he’d made for her, gasping wails slipping through her teeth.

He stalks out and goes to breakfast. Maybe if he starves her for a few days she’ll stop spitting his come on the floor. 

When he returns several hours later, she crawls to him. Her entire body shaking.

“Please … please … “ Her voice is fractured and trembling. 

“What do you want now?” he asks between gritted teeth. 

She cowers down near his feet. “What — what do you want me to do — to be more … grateful?”

Draco stares at her in disbelief. 

“What do I want you to do?” He echoes. He studies her blankly for several seconds before realising she means it as a legitimate question. 

“What do I want you to do?” His voice grows louder and Granger’s expression becomes terrified. “The only thing I have ever asked you to do. I want you to be happy. I do everything else! I feed you, I keep you safe, I pleasure you, I’m even letting you have a baby. Being happy is the only thing I ask from you, but all you do is mope.”

Granger stares up at him and then her face crumples and she bursts into tears. 

Draco sits down on the floor next to her. “For god’s sake,” he says as he grinds his teeth. “Stop crying about everything.” 

She cringes away. “I don’t — I don’t know how to be happier,” she chokes out. “I’m not — I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I don’t know how to be happier… I’m trying. I’m trying. I promise … I’ll try harder… “ 

Draco sighs and rests a hand on her head, feeling drained and defeated. “I’m just frustrated. Being pregnant was supposed to make you happier. That was the entire point. Instead you’re depressed. I didn’t expect you to be this hormonal.”

Granger keeps trembling and giving little despairing sobs and then starts hyperventilating.

“Calm down. Hormones don’t give you an excuse to bawl constantly.” 

He gave her a moment to calm and when she doesn’t he grabs her hair and shoves her head firmly down to his lap, withdrawing his cock. “Suck. You calm down fastest when you stop focusing on yourself. You can suck as slowly as you want. I won’t even make you swallow.”

Granger sniffles and her chest hitches but she obediently opens her mouth and wraps her lips around his cock. As he’d predicted, it calms her down. 

He breathes a slow sigh of relief and runs his hand across her bare skin as her tongue curls and laps along the length of his cock.

She bobs her head up and down dutifully, sucking slowly and softly the way he likes it when he’s stressed or tired. 

The pleasure slowly clears his mood and he pulls her closer in order to hold her, running his hands through her hair and stroking her silky skin. He begins playing with the jewellery on her tits until she begins squirming and whimpering around his cock. 

He pulls her mouth away and guides her onto her back on the floor. 

“Good girl. Good girl.” He dips his fingers into her quivering entrance in order to touch that slick warmth he loves so much before pulling her pelvis up to meet his. He sinks into that deliciously scalding heat and then leans forward to kiss her. “I know you’re trying. I’ll be more patient.”

He rolls his hips against hers and cradles her face in his hands. “I love you, you know.”

Granger’s eyes swim. “I love you too.”

His heart lurches whenever she says it. 

He pulls her closer, moving slowly. 

He has to find a way to make her be happy. Then everything will be perfect. He kisses her again as he runs his hand down her body.

He strokes her cunt gently with his fingertips. It’s scabbed in a few places from the flogger. She tenses, trembling almost imperceptibly. There’s a brief stab of guilt in his chest. She’s fine. She still loves him.

An occasional punishment is good for her. 

He toys with her piercings until her inner walls begin fluttering around him and she pants and moans trying to hold herself back.

“Hold it,” he says, groaning as he keeps fucking her and keeps touching her. She’s so incredible. So lush and warm. He makes her hold the edge, harder and harder until her entire body is taut as she fights it.

As he feels his balls tighten, he lets her come and they climax in unison, her body shuddering and pulling him in more deeply. 

There aren’t words to describe how much he loves her. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly, trying to absorb the warmth of her body as she lies beneath him. 

She’s docile after that. She tries harder to overcome her morning sickness in order to pleasure him. When she fails to keep his come down or deep throat him, she finds new ways to please him. In the mornings, she sucks and licks his nipples while giving him a handjob instead. She spends entire hours softly sucking his cock and when he comes, she holds it in her mouth until she can unobtrusively slip into the bathroom. She eagerly lets him fuck her however and whenever he wants. 

Her tits get large enough that he can bury his cock fully between them, and he makes a daily habit of letting Granger suck him off while he fucks them.

She puts more effort into smiling. 

She’s almost convincingly happy, but at night she regularly creeps from their bed and cries in the bathroom, pressing towels against her face to try to muffle the noise. Every few days she’s so depressed and tired she can’t hide it. She lies curled in a limp heap, barely responsive unless Draco orders her to do something. 

Draco is patient and doesn’t punish her for it. She is trying. He can tell she’s trying. 

He doesn’t want to hurt her unless he has to. 


	8. Contretemps

She’s more than four months pregnant when he comes home and she greets him the way she used to, enthusiastically, smiling and rubbing her face against his cock through his robes and then sucking him off, taking him all the way down her throat for the first time in months. He groans, it’s perfect. 

This is exactly what he wants, what he’s missed so much about her. He tangles his fingers tightly in her hair, dragging her close and empties himself down her throat. She manages to swallow every drop and then cleans him daintily with her tongue. 

He sits slumped in an armchair, panting and staring at her while she kneels between his legs, soothingly licking his cock with her lovely pink tongue. Her body is crowded against him. 

“You’re feeling better,” he finally manages to say. 

She looks up at him with her dark, liquid eyes. “Yes. I wasn’t sick today. So — “ she manages a little smile, “ — I wanted to show you.”

A grin curls across his face. “When did you last edge?”

She sits back on the floor. She has a distinct bump already. Draco had thought it would be in her stomach but instead, it sits lower, between her hipbones. 

“An hour ago. I — I know I should have again, but I thought maybe you might — might want to do it. Or watch. So … I waited for you.” She looks up at him nervously. 

Draco leans hungrily towards her. “Show me.”

She leans back on her hands and parts her legs, presenting herself prettily for his inspection. Draco slides off his chair and kneels between her legs, brushing his fingers through the wetness around her entrance. His blood feels thick and there’s a clawing sense of ravenousness inside him. She’s eager for him again. He didn’t even realise how much he missed this. 

He spreads her legs further as he stares down, taking her in. He’s going to consume her in courses.

The first, taken through the eyes; the second, with his fingertips; the third, under his tongue; the fourth, on his cock. 

She moans and twitches. His heartbeat quickens in his chest with anticipation. He can’t resist. He slips his fingers into his mouth to taste it as he keeps staring down at her, spread before him. 

“You do the first edge. I want to see how close you can get for me,” he says in a husky voice. 

She shivers and slips one hand between her legs. She starts by stroking soft circles on her inner-thighs until her breathing grows shorter. Her other hand begins cupping one of her swollen tits, her thumb teasingly brushing along her areolas. Her hand between her legs begins tickling her mons and then drawing featherlight strokes down along her cunt. 

Draco can feel heat like a kindling flame in his gut as he watches her, his cock already twitching and ready again. He breathes heavily through his mouth, and Granger’s eyes move up and meet his while she continues touching herself. It sends a thrill through him, to have her looking at him while edging.

She starts panting. Her fingers tighten around her tit and then release and she catches her nipple, squeezing before twisting at the silver bar adorning it. Her eyes roll back and she gives a low moan, her hips jerking slightly. There’s more arousal collecting at the opening of her cunt. Draco shoves his tongue against his teeth as he fights against the temptation to push her hand away and take over. 

Her fingers move closer to her clit. She gives a breathy whimper and touches it lightly between her thumb and forefinger, rolling the engorged nub. She gasps and moves her fingers away, edging around it but not touching it again. 

Her other hand is still playing with her nipple, Draco is dying to wrap his tongue around it. She rolls her hips desperately, as she keeps touching herself, beginning to pant harder and harder until she abruptly stops, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing a deep breath before letting it out. Her legs are trembling. She breathes slowly in and out again before opening her eyes. 

“Again?” Her voice is thick with arousal.

Draco is panting through his teeth. “I’ll do it. Get on the bed.”

His hands are nearly shaking as he presses her legs further apart and pulls her down the mattress until her cunt is at the very edge of the bed. He breathes across her swollen folds and watches Granger quiver in anticipation. 

He’s kneeling between her legs and feels as though he’s at an alter. He worships her. He’ll kill to keep her. He’ll murder anyone who tried to touch her. He’ll burn down the world for her. 

He begins tracing his fingers along the very base of her inner thighs where they’re most sensitive. 

Perfect. She’s perfect. 

He’s going to keep her forever. 

He lowers his mouth and gently kisses her clit, tenderly drawing it into his mouth. It only takes him a few flicks of his tongue before Granger is trembling. He keeps stroking her softly with his tongue, feeling her body tense further with every touch. 

“Oh god … oh god … please, please, please, please — “ her voice breaks off in a strangled cry and he feels her tense as she struggles to hold off her orgasm. 

He draws his mouth away, pressing his face against her satin thigh. “Good girl. That was hard. You did so well. I could feel you fighting it.

Granger is silent and then gives a pitiful whimper as she relaxes. He kisses the inside of her knee.

“Let’s go again. I’ll go slower this time.”

He laps up the arousal collecting between her legs. She clenches and trembles and more arousal slips out. He used his thumbs to spread her open and gently stroke her puckered hole with a fingertip while he continues to lick lightly at the entrance of her cunt. Every time she clenches, her clit twitches and her hips roll upwards desperately. 

She moans. “Please, fuck me. Please. Please. It 's been so long.”

Draco pauses. “When did you last come?”

He knows, but he likes to make her keep track. If she gets it wrong, he sometimes adds the inaccurate days to the total she has to wait.

“F-four weeks ago.”

“And when did I last fuck your cunt?”

“Nine — days ago.”

He traces the tip of his tongue lightly along her thigh. “You’re not allowed to come for another week, remember. You have to practice for the baby.”

“I know.”

Draco pets her sex and she whimpers, her fingers twisting tightly in the sheets.

“This needy cunt is always so desperate for me.”

Granger nods.

“If you can take three more hard edges, I’ll fuck your cunt. Or you can choose to be on no-touch for your clit until next week.”

Granger looks ready to cry. Draco is already painfully hard thinking about her cunt fluttering around him as he fucks her again. 

“Three more edges,” she says in a low, quick, almost tremulous voice. 

He smiles at her. She really is perfect. 

“Lie still. I want you to be completely still, no tensing or moving while I play with you. Be perfectly still.”

She turns pale, making the deep flush in her cheeks starker. Her mouth starts to move before she presses her lips together as her throat dips. She lies back, laying her hands flat on the sheets, and exhaling slowly as she relaxes and her body goes limp the way he’s trained her. Her eyes are fastened on the ceiling and Draco watches her chest hitch nervously. 

He leans closer and licks her clit softly. Her stomach tenses but the rest of her body stays still. He presses himself more firmly against her and laps again. 

A breathy, strangled sound escapes her. She seems to be speaking but the words come out as strained gibberish interspersed with long breathy moans. Her fingers twitch minutely and he watches her swelling stomach twitch as he continues licking the same slow pattern against her clit, over and over. 

She’s all his. He controls and possesses every fibre of her being. Her pleasure. The baby growing inside her. Every bite of food and drop of water that passes through her lips. She belongs to him. His to enjoy and his to care for. 

He can feel her orgasm building as she struggles to obey.

“I — can’t — “

He draws his mouth away and she bites her lower lip, whimpering as the edge slowly fades away and leaves her even needier. Her chest spasming as she tries to relax again.

Her legs quiver as he leans in once more. Her eyes are nearly black with arousal. He laps softly at her while his fingers brush teasing circles along her thighs. A slower edge. It grows more gradually, but as she reaches it she’s incapable of even verbalising that she’s close. A choking whimper wells up in the base of her throat as she shakes. 

When he pulls away and lets her calm, she presses her lips together, jaw visibly trembling.

When she’s quiet and relaxes once more, he starts again. Gently licking and suckling with an unvaried pattern as she hangs, teetering on the brink. The noise escaping her sounds like she’s in acute pain and her hands begin shaking uncontrollably.

He debates pushing her over the edge, just to feel her shatter after she’s fought it so hard. But he decides against it. He’s dying to slide inside her sweet cunt again. 

After the third edge, he withdraws his mouth from her glistening, swollen clit and strokes her thighs soothingly.

She stays frozen for several seconds and then her chest jerks as though she hasn’t been breathing for several minutes. She sobs and he can’t tell if it’s with relief or disappointment. 

He stands up and unbuttons his robes until they slip down onto the floor. 

He shifts her back on the bed and climbs between her legs. His cock is leaking with arousal. If Granger hadn’t just sucked him off he would already be on the verge of exploding.

This is what she does to him. No matter how many times he fucks her, she always makes him feel like he needs to take her one more time. 

“My perfect girl,” he murmurs as he gently positions his cock between her legs. “I’m going to take care of your needy cunt. Hold your legs.”

He pushes her knees up until they’re at her shoulders, spreading her open so that his favourite parts of her are completely exposed. He pets her folds and rubs the head of his cock against her clit. 

When he pushes into her, they both moan. The frissons of pleasure shudder over him in waves. He fucks her slowly, edging her with each thrust, feeling her struggle not to climax. She pants heavily. A droplet of drool collects in the corner of her mouth and slowly slides down her chin as he watches. 

He plays with her tits, tugging the chain until she’s hanging on the verge of orgasm again. He slows until she calms and resumes, wiping away the drool, feeling it’s slippery warmth on his fingers. He slides her fingers in her mouth, urging her to suck while he drives in and fills her.

He keeps going, slowly, slowly until she’s quivering. Her abdomen starts twitching and her knuckles are white where she’s gripping her ankles. 

Without warning, he forces her over the edge. He feels her struggle as she teeters on the brink and tries to hold back for him before the orgasm annihilates her. She grips him, pulsing so tightly around his cock that his mind goes blank as the blur of blistering rapture overtakes him. 

He opens his eyes and watches with fascinated horror as the growing swell in her belly contracts and juts out in an almost pointed shape. Granger seems to spasm around it. 

She keeps shuddering for several minutes afterwards.

“Sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to,” she starts saying as soon as she begins to recover. Her eyes are wide and her voice wavers as she studies his expression.

He rests a hand gingerly on the bizarre bump and finds that it’s almost rigid under his hand. “Is it — supposed to be like that?”

The question seems to startle her. 

She looks down, her head jerking as she stares and then looks back at him. “I — don’t know. I don’t how any of it’s supposed to be.”

Draco blinks as he keeps staring down at her stomach as it slowly reverts to the gentler, softer swell he’s getting accustomed to. “Maybe I should — look it up.”

Granger looks up at him and seems to be hesitating for several moments. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I was — I was wondering if — if maybe I could go to a prenatal appointment. M-most — most women do when they’re pregnant.”

Draco looks up from her stomach, his eyes narrowing. “A what?”

She licks her lips again. “A prenatal appointment. It’s a visit to healers women have in the magical world and the Muggle world when they’re pregnant. I could — I could go to a Muggle clinic.”

Draco’s jaw tenses, his fingers curling and digging into her hip. “So you want to leave?”

Granger’s eyes widen, her body shrinks down into the mattress. “No — no. No. I don’t.”

He rolls his jaw and his mouth twists. He pulls his cock out of the lush heat, finding it no longer warms him. “You just asked to leave.”

“No — “ she sounds as though she’s choking on something, “I’m not — I’m not asking because I — because I want to. I just thought maybe I should.”

“Why?” he asks in a cold tone as he stands, staring down at her where she’s still lying in his bed. His come is seeping out between her legs.

She avoids his gaze and bites her lip nervously. “Sometimes — things can be going wrong with pregnancy for the baby or the mother. Doctors would be able to tell.”

He cocks his head. “Do you think there’s something wrong?”

Granger’s throat dips nervously. “No.”

“Then _why_ do you want to go?” 

His voice is dangerous. 

He wants her to know what thin ice she’s currently treading. She’s ruining the lovely evening they just had together. He wasn’t even intending to punish her for coming without permission. Now it's a question of just how much he feels like punishing her. 

She pales. 

“It’s just — “ her voice is straining and fades. Her lips twitch. “It’s just a way to be sure.”

His quirks an eyebrow. 

Her eyes dart over to the far wall where the flogger hangs high overhead. She swallows and shakes her head rapidly. “Never mind. Never mind. I — don’t. I don’t want to. It was a silly idea. I don’t know why I asked.” 

“Neither do I,” Draco says. His good mood has evaporated.

He pulls on his robes without a word. Granger watches with wide eyes as he walks across the room and leaves. 

He walks through a Muggle park nearby. He doesn’t know why she’s worried about things going wrong. How many things even could go wrong with a pregnancy?

He goes to the bookstore, determined to prove that she’s irrational and ungrateful for even daring to imply he isn’t taking sufficient care of her, reviewing the pregnancy books he skimmed before. 

Apparently, there are — a considerable number of things that can go wrong in pregnancy; that regularly go wrong.

In fact, more than half of every pregnancy book he picks up seems devoted to listing them all with brief and dire descriptions, directing readers to specialists for more information. Draco cross-references a half a dozen books and indeed they all discuss the importance of healers to monitor pregnancies. 

He returns home paranoid. Maybe there is something wrong. Maybe that's why Granger’s so lethargic. 

Maybe it’s because she’s dying.

When he walks into their bedroom, she’s huddled in a tight ball on the bed, exactly where he left her. Her eyes are closed. He picks her up and checks her all over. Her skin isn’t flush with warmth the way it usually it. The hollows of her cheeks are stained pink but she’s pale. She’s very pale. Her irises are extremely large. Is her heart beating too fast or too slow? He has no idea. He isn't even sure what blood pressure is. 

When she wakes in his arms, she instantly stiffens, her face turning almost as white as the bedsheets.

“I didn’t mean it,” she says. “I didn’t. Please—“

He shushes her but she starts shaking, breathing faster and faster. She scrambles off the bed, her hands slipping into his robes.

“I’m happy. I’m happy. I love it here. I’ll show you,” she’s whispering under her breath. 

Draco catches her by the chin and tilts her head up so he can see her eyes. Her jaw starts trembling and it spreads across her body as she tries to smile up at him.

“Granger, calm down.”

She nods rapidly and starts opening his robes even faster. He stills her hands, extracting them from his robes. “Not like that. Just calm down.”

She studies his face intently and he looks back at her. Her face is nearly gaunt. He didn’t want her getting fat from pregnancy, but maybe he should let her eat more. 

“What do you want me to do?” Her voice is a strained whisper. 

He shakes his head, touching her cheek and running his fingers through her hair. “I’m not telling you to do anything. Calm down and rest. I just want you to rest for the rest of today.”

“Are you sure?” She sounds terrified. 

Draco furrows his eyebrows as he studies her. “Yes. Just rest. No more edging or anything else. If there’s something you want to eat, I’ll get it for you.”

“But — I don’t want you to think I’m not being — grateful.” Her voice is shaking. 

Draco pulls her closer, gripping her tightly in his arms. 

“I’m not going to punish you for being pregnant. I’m giving you permission to rest. Understood? Don’t do anything else. I’m going to take you to a Muggle Healer to find out what’s wrong with you. Alright?”

“R-really? Y-you are?” Granger sits back in order to see his face, her eyes alight. 

He stares at her almost dazed for several seconds. He’s tried so hard to coax that spark into her eyes, and there it is. He didn’t realise how desperate he was to see it. 

His throat thickens and he presses his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms around her. “Yes. Of course, I am. I always take care of you. You just rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

It takes him several days to figure out where a Muggle prenatal appointment could be gotten and then how to schedule one. Once he has it scheduled, he realises that Granger has no clothes. He can’t very well take her to a Muggle healer in nothing but white knickers.

He has to go shopping for her. He goes through dozens of racks of clothing, trying to find clothes that a Muggle who looks like Granger might wear. He has no clue what a person was supposed to wear to a prenatal appointment. 

He buys several options and is halfway home when he notices that Muggle women carry handbags. It would probably look strange if Granger doesn’t have one. He goes back and spends several hours staring at the options and trying to figure out why there were so many. When he finally finds one he likes, he realises it didn’t match the outfits he selected and has to start over. 

He goes to his favourite French restaurant and orders several servings of their chicken pot au feu. 

Each time he returns home, Granger is curled up in a tight ball in the middle of her nest where he told her to sleep. He fights the recurring desire to shake her awake and verify that she isn’t on the brink of death. 

What if she dies right there in his room because he didn’t take care of her carefully enough?

When he can’t restrain himself any longer, he goes over and wakes her. She always moves instinctively towards his crotch and he has to crush her against his chest while he peppers adoring kisses in her hair. 

“I’m not waking you to have you suck me off. I just wanted to check on you. I have a Muggle prenatal appointment scheduled for you tomorrow.”

“Oh...” Granger sounds on the verge of tears. “Are you sure you don’t want me to thank you?”

He shakes his head. “You can thank me by resting.”

He only has slow sex with her and barely makes her edge at all.

He holds her all night, his heart pounding with worry as he holds her soft, warm body tightly against his. He presses his palm against her chest to feel her heartbeat. His stomach twists to the point of nausea at the thought something might be wrong with her. He keeps kissing her shoulder and telling himself she’ll be alright. 

Granger sleeps solidly. It’s the first time in months that she doesn’t disturb him by squirming from frustrated arousal or sneaking into the bathroom to cry into the towels.

He feeds her chicken soup and other things that are probably fattening. He combs her hair and fusses over her. He isn’t sure what to do with himself or her during all the time when he’s refraining from edging her and having sex with her.

He should get her books again, he decides. Once she’s better, she could read them aloud while he edges her. He’s certain that would make her even happier. 

As the appointment draws closer, Granger becomes visibly grey. She keeps glancing at the clock and the door and looking as though she’s on the verge of being sick.

It will be her first time leaving home. He rubs reassuring circles on her back. 

“Don’t worry. They’ll all be Muggles, and no one will realise you’re an Omega while you’re pregnant. You’ll be safe. And I’ll be with you the entire time.”

She swallows and licks her lips nervously.

He lets her pick out the clothes she’ll wear. When he presents her with the handbag, her eyes grow round with surprise. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’re supposed to keep inside it,” he says as he hands it to her, “but I assumed it would look strange if you didn’t have one.”

She opens it and spends several minutes locating all the pockets it has. “It’s fine. I don’t need to put anything into it. Muggles usually keep keys and money and odds and ends in them. Not really things I’ll carry about.”

As they walk up to the entrance of the clinic, Granger seems even more nervous than she’d been before. She grips his hand until his knuckles are sore. 

“When we get there, there will be a waiting area.” Her voice is tense, almost shrill. “You can sit down and I’ll check-in.”

Draco shakes his head. “I can check-in. I scheduled it.”

“No!” The word seems to explode from her mouth. Draco freezes and looks at her. 

She swallows and her chest jerks as she draws a deep breath. “I mean. You can, but they’ll want my information. Birthdate. Personal account number. Phone number. M-med-medical history for me and my parents. You wouldn’t be able to answer all those questions for me.”

Draco nods. “Alright.”

The room is drab. Granger points at two seats in a far corner and then makes her way skittishly towards the front desk. 

She’s too thin. Her growing belly seems much too large in relation to the rest of her. Surely she isn’t supposed to be so big after only four months. 

“I have a prenatal appointment today under the name Hermione Granger,” he hears her say. “I think I have — some forms I need to fill out.”

The Muggle woman at the desk drones several instructions and hands Granger a clipboard and pen. 

Granger seems to be looking over everything and then scribbles on one piece of paper and pushes it back towards the woman. “I think I can give this one back first. And then I’ll fill out the rest while I wait.”

The woman glances down at the paper and then appears to freeze and reread it before looking up at Hermione.

“Right.” Granger’s voice seems forcibly cheerful. “So I’ll go sit down over there until I’m called.” 

She clutches the clipboard against her chest and bolts across the room to Draco. She looks as though she’s on the verge of fainting. 

Draco studies her worriedly and reaches up to stroke her cheek. Her skin is clammy and ice cold. “Is that Muggle not doing her job?” he asks in a dangerous voice. 

Granger’s eyes widen. “No. I’ve got everything. I just have to fill out these forms.”

Draco glances back towards the Muggle woman who is holding something to her ear and staring at him and Granger. “What was that form you already gave back?”

Granger looks up sharply from where she was writing her name, age, and address in a pretty, looping script. Draco studies the words and realises he hadn’t known what her handwriting looked like until just then. 

“That form was — “ she twitches a shoulder, “— my — my personal account number. It lets them find me in the system. Then they know I’m a citizen.”

Draco blinks. The explanation sounds like complete rubbish to him, but then again, there were few things about Muggles that appear to make any sense. It’s not surprising that their medical care would be equally incoherent. 

Granger returns to filling out the forms in her looping script. Draco looks up and finds the Muggle woman has disappeared. 

By the time Granger fills out the fourth form, she’s turned a pasty greyish colour that resembles the dingy carpet. As Draco watches, a bead of sweat collects on her temple and slides down her face. 

“Granger? Are you alright?” He tries to ask the question calmly, but he feels on the verge of panicking. Granger is turning grey and about to die in a Muggle waiting room. 

“I’m fine,” her voice is trembling and her hand has started shaking so much her letters are coming out illegibly. 

Draco plucks the pen from her fingers and she looks up. 

“I’m fine.” She nods rapidly to herself, her voice thin. “It’s just — I haven’t been out in so long. It makes me a bit nervous.”

Draco starts to stand. “Let go home. I’ll just confund a doctor to come to visit you there.”

Granger’s expression grows horrified. “No! No, they can’t. They — they have equipment they’ll need. It’s too big to carry. And they might have to do blood tests — to — to check for things.”

Draco stares at her and reluctantly drops back into the chair beside her. He takes the clipboard from her hand. “Fine. We’ll stay. Do you have any maternal relatives with — “ he squints at the word, “ — diabetes?”

Granger relaxes in her chair somewhat. “No.”

He checks a box.

“Do you have any paternal relatives with diabetes?”

“No.”

“Hermione Granger, Doctor Montaigne is ready for you.”

Another Muggle has appeared through a door and stands by the check-in desk, staring at Granger with the fakest grin Draco had ever seen. Why do Muggles all have to be so bizarre?

Granger stands, and Draco gets up to follow her. 

The Muggle stiffens. “Just Hermione Granger. Prenatal visits are private.”

Draco glares. “I’m the father.”

The fake grin seems to deepen. “Sorry. It’s a new NHS policy. Fathers aren’t allowed in during exams. You can wait here ‘til we finish.”

Granger turns and looks up at him. “It’ll just be for a few minutes. To make sure everything is alright.”

Draco wavers. Bringing her out of his house has already been enough of a stretch. She’s not safe if she isn’t at home. Letting her disappear from sight, even for a few minutes, sets him dangerously on edge. 

But she’s grey and depressed, and he’s growing increasingly convinced that the pregnancy is killing her somehow. 

“Fine.” He swallows. “I’ll wait here.”

Granger gives a small sigh as though she hadn’t been breathing until he answered. “Thank you — Dra-Draco.”

It was the first time she’s ever used his name. It hits him like a bludger to the chest. 

“Of — course.” His voice actually breaks slightly. “Anything for you.”

Her chest hitches and she gives him a brave smile. “I know. You always take care of me.” 

She wavers and then steps a little closer to the Muggle. 

“I — I love you … “ she whispers to him. Her jaw appears to be trembling. “It’s just — a few minutes.”

“Please, Miss Granger, follow me down this hall.” The Muggle steps back to allow Hermione through the doorway and lets the heavy door swing shut. “We’re going to go all the way down, to the right and then it’s the third door…”

The voice fades into the distance. Draco stands by the door and then returns to his seat. 

The Muggle woman at the desk still hasn’t reappeared. Draco twirls the pen in his fingers while he waits. 

A few minutes is a complete lie. He sits waiting for over half an hour and Granger doesn’t reappear. 

He stands, reaching for his wand. He isn’t going to let Granger be by herself without him for so long. She might faint. What could possibly be wrong with her that would make the appointment take so long? 

His heart feels like it’s being crushed to death. 

He’s about to cast a spell to open the door when there’s a sound behind him. He turns and finds a man wearing a strange black vest and round sort of bowler’s hat adorned with a badge and checkered band entering the waiting room, followed by several more similarly attired men. 

Draco stares in bewilderment. He thinks they’re called Bobbies but he isn’t entirely sure. Then he realises there were words embroidered on their vests. 

Metropolitan Police.

Police? He tries to remember what the police is. 

Muggle Aurors, he thinks. 

Why on earth are there be police here?

He’ll have to wait until they leave. The last thing he needs is for the Ministry to start investigating him over a violation of the statute of secrecy 

One of the Bobbies approaches him. “Right. You’re done now. Why don’t you come quietly with us?”

Draco raises an eyebrow coolly. “I’m waiting for someone.”

He leans to the side to see if Granger is coming back yet. 

He detests Muggles. The Bobby steps closer. 

“Now then.” The Bobby tries to take Draco by the arm. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You’re under-arrest —“

That phrase Draco knows. 

His wand whips out and he shoots off a dozen spells. The police drop and Draco bolts towards the door Granger had gone through. 

Something is wrong. 

Down the hall. Right. Third door. 

There is no third door. He flings open door after door and every room is empty. He starts panicking.

They’ve stolen her. The Muggles stole her when he was sitting down the hall.

She’s too trusting. 

The Muggles somehow figured out that she’s an Omega and they’ve stolen her from him. They’re probably going to sell her.

He throws open a door that leads into an alley. There are more police there. Draco swears and slashes his wand up. He doesn’t stop until they’re all on the ground. He pulls one up by the collar of his uniform, digging his wand under the man’s chin.

“Where is she? What did you do to her?” His voice is shaking with rage. 

The Muggle glares at him. “You won’t find her. She’s safe from you, bastard.”

Draco snarls a curse and drops the body back onto the ground, looking around. His blood is roaring in his ears. 

Where is she? 

He runs down to the end of the alley, trying to think of how to track her down. There are more police. He curses and apparates. 

When he reappears across London, he kicks over a rubbish bin, swearing as he wracks his mind. 

A tracking spell. He can track her clothes. Or her collar.

He casts a point-me charm and follows it as it winds through London for over an hour until he reaches another alley. All the clothes he bought her, down to her knickers, are bunched up and shoved into an enormous rubbish bin. He pulls them out and her handbag falls to the ground, clinking. He rips it open and finds her jewellery. The collar has been cut in pieces in order to remove it from her neck. 

He screams in frustration and shrinks it all, shoving it into his pocket. 

He had no idea how to find her in the Muggle world. Where they might take her. What are they doing to her? She’s pregnant. What if they hurt the baby? She’ll be devastated. 

He has to find her. He has to figure out a way to find her. 

His entire body is shaking and icy with terror. 

He’s about to apparate again when he feels the wards on his home breached. 

The front door has been opened. 

He gasps and his legs nearly give out. It has to be her. She’s escaped and gone home. He sobs with relief. Of course, she’s always been clever. She must have been able to figure out a way to escape Muggles and go home. 

She’s probably waiting for him in their room the way she always is.

He apparates straight to the doorstep. The front door is ajar. As he pushes it open, there’s a flash of orange light and he’s flung violently backwards. 

His head hits the cobblestones and white light explodes in his eyes as he hears his skull crack. Before he’s recovered himself, a foot drives itself into his stomach, doubling him over. He gasps, trying to breathe, and finds himself dragged up by his robes.

Potter’s face appears centimetres from his own, his green eyes burning with deadly rage. 

Draco stares. How on earth has the Ministry already shown up over his Statute Of Secrecy violation?

“Potter?” he rasps. “I need your help. The Muggles — they kidnapped Granger.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

There’s a red spell. It all goes black.

When Draco regains consciousness, he’s in a Ministry holding cell. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there. He blinks trying to clear the stabbing pain in his head. 

Granger’s probably being shipped to another continent by now. 

He stands up and shouts down the empty hallway until a troll-featured guard comes and silences him. As he stares at the guard’s stupid face, it occurs to him that a troll might get its hands on her.

He screams silently and throws himself at the ice cold bars, his heart is pounding with horrified panic and he vomits as he thinks about what could happen to her. 

Trolls. Centaurs. Goblins. Werewolves. Vampires. Other wizards. 

He should never have taken her out of their room. 

It feels like an eternity before a group of Aurors come down the hall, pull him from the cell, and shackle him to a chair in a frigid interrogation room.

Potter is among them. 

Draco keeps trying to catch his eye, mouthing “Granger. Granger. Granger,” again and again in the hopes that they’ll remove the hex on his throat and he can explain why he’s violated the statute. 

An older, broad-shouldered Auror lays a thick scroll of parchment on the table in front of him. 

“Draco Malfoy you have been arrested on charges of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, and torture, as well as for violating the Statute of Secrecy and injuring and killing several members of the Muggle law enforcement.”

Draco stares at him blankly. 

The Auror sits down and unfurls the scroll. “There are also countless, additional charges of sexual assault and molestation. Starvation. Multiple cases of assault and battery. Mutilation. Illegal use of veritaserum. Coercion. Deprivation of medical care, and forced impregnation.”

A sense of gradual, poisonous horror curdles in Draco’s stomach. 

He’s hardly able to breathe as he looks slowly down at the scroll.

It is crammed with handwriting. A pretty, looping script that fills inch after inch for what appears to be several feet. 

His heart stops as he stares at it. 

Being pregnant means she’s stopped registering to males as an Omega.

That fucking bitch. 

* * *

**The End**


	9. Alternative Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the darker, alternative ending for Edge. Which, I personally don’t like as much since it feels more like a horror for horror’s sake type of ending and I didn’t think that really aligned with the thematic point I had in mind for the larger story.
> 
> But, since I’m already going to hell anyway. Here’s the non-ambiguous ending version. 
> 
> **TW: Major Character Death and necrophilia.**

He stands up and unbuttons his robes until they slip down onto the floor.

He shifts her back on the bed and climbs between her legs. His cock is leaking with arousal. If Granger hadn’t just sucked him off he would already be on the verge of exploding. This is what she does to him. No matter how many times he fucks her, she always makes him feel like he needs to take her one more time.

“My perfect girl,” he murmurs as he gently positions his cock between her legs. “I’m going to take care of your needy cunt. Hold your legs.”

He pushes her knees up until they’re at her shoulders, spreading her open so that his favourite parts of her are completely exposed. He pets her folds and rubs the head of his cock against her clit.

When he pushes into her, they both moan. The frissons of pleasure shudder over him in waves. He fucks her slowly, edging her with each thrust, feeling her struggle not to climax. She pants heavily. A droplet of drool collects in the corner of her mouth and slowly slides down her chin as he watches.

He plays with her tits, tugging the chain until she’s hanging on the verge of orgasm again. He slows until she calms and resumes, wiping away the drool, feeling it’s slippery warmth on his fingers. He slides her fingers in her mouth, urging her to suck while he drives in and fills her.

He keeps going, slowly, slowly until she’s quivering. Her abdomen starts twitching and her knuckles are white where she’s gripping her ankles.

Without warning, he forces her over the edge. He feels her struggle as she teeters on the brink and tries to hold back for him before the orgasm annihilates her. She grips him, pulsing so tightly around his cock that his mind goes blank as the blur of blistering rapture overtakes him.

He opens his eyes and watches with fascinated horror as the growing swell in her belly contracts and juts out in an almost pointed shape. Granger seems to spasm around it.

She keeps shuddering for several minutes afterwards.

“Sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to,” she starts saying as soon as she begins to recover. Her eyes are wide and her voice wavers as she studies his expression.

He rests a hand gingerly on the bizarre bump and finds that it’s almost rigid under his hand. “Is it — supposed to be like that?”

The question seems to startle her.

She looks down, her head jerking as she stares and then looks back at him. “I — don’t know. I don’t know how any of it’s supposed to be.”

Draco blinks as he keeps staring down at her stomach as it slowly reverts to the gentle swell he’s getting accustomed to. “Maybe I should — look it up.”

Granger looks up at him and seems to be hesitating for several moments. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I was — I was wondering if — if maybe I could go to a prenatal appointment. M-most— most women do when they’re pregnant.”

Draco looks up from her stomach, his eyes narrowing. “A what?”

She licks her lips again. “A prenatal appointment. It’s a visit to healers women have in the magical world and the Muggle world when they’re pregnant. I could — I could go to a Muggle clinic.”

Draco’s jaw tenses, his fingers curling slowly and possessively around her throat. “You want to leave?”

Granger’s eyes widen, her body shrinks down into the mattress. “No — no. No. I don’t.”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and squeezes lightly.

“No — I’m not — I don’t — want to.”

She’s lying.

He rolls his jaw and his mouth twists. “You just asked to leave.”

“No — “ she sounds as though she’s choking, “No...”

“Why then? Why do you want to go?”

His voice is dangerous.

He wants her to know what thin ice she’s currently treading on. His fingers dig in deeper, sliding along the tendons along her throat and the ridges of her oesophagus, pushing down until he can feel her straining.

He’s been spoiling her too much lately, letting her think that being pregnant means she can get away with and ask for whatever she wants.

He hasn’t disciplined her in weeks, and because of that she’s ruined the lovely evening they just had together. He wasn’t even intending to punish her for coming without permission. Now it's a question of just how much he feels like punishing her.

How dare she imply that he isn’t taking care of her. He bears down harder.

She’s growing paler.

“It’s just — “ her voice is straining and her lips twitch. Her fingers are scrabbling weakly at his hand. “I — don’t — I don’t — want to — “

“Good,” Draco says as he glares down at her.

His good mood has evaporated and he feels vicious with rage. This was the best evening they’ve had since she got pregnant and now she’s ruined it.

He’d been so happy and now there’s ice in the pit of his stomach.

Nothing he does is ever enough. She always wants more. Ungrateful slut.

He holds her down until she stops resisting and lies still the way she’s supposed to.

He slowly lets go so she can breathe. He pulls his cock out of the lush heat, finding it no longer warms him, and stands up.

His come is seeping out between her legs. He leans forward and pushes it back in.

He pulls on his robes without a word. Granger watches with wide eyes as he stalks across the room and leaves.

He walks through a Muggle park nearby. He doesn’t know why she’s worried about things going wrong. How many things even could go wrong with a pregnancy?

He goes to the bookstore, determined to prove that she’s irrational and ungrateful for even daring to imply he isn’t taking sufficient care of her, reviewing the pregnancy books he skimmed before.

He’ll show her.

Then he’ll discipline her.

Apparently, there are — a considerable number of things that can go wrong in pregnancy; that regularly go wrong.

In fact, more than half of every pregnancy book he picks up seems devoted to listing them all with brief and dire descriptions, directing readers to specialists for more information. Draco cross-references a half a dozen books and indeed they all discuss the importance of healers to monitor pregnancies.

He returns home paranoid. Maybe there is something wrong.

Maybe that's why Granger is so lethargic. Maybe it’s because she’s dying.

When he walks into their bedroom, she’s still lying in the bed where he left her. Her eyes are wide, watching him carefully. There are bruises ringing her throat and he guiltily charms them away before picking her up and checking her all over.

Her skin isn’t flush with warmth the way it usually is. She’s pale. She’s very pale. Her irises are extremely large. He doesn’t know how much he’s supposed to feel her heartbeat during pregnancy. He isn't even sure what blood pressure is.

She’s stiff and fearful, but she doesn’t say anything. He kisses her apologetically and murmurs spells to warm her up, holding her close. Her face is almost as white as the bedsheets.

He studies her carefully. Her features are nearly gaunt. He didn’t want her getting fat from pregnancy, but maybe he should let her eat more.

Her expression still seems terrified.

He kisses her softly, touching her cheek and running his fingers through her hair. “I think you should rest for the remainder of today.”

She still doesn’t relax.

Draco pulls her closer, gripping her tightly in his arms and casting more spells to warm her up. “I’ve decided to take you to a Muggle Healer to find out what’s wrong with you. Alright?”

He kisses her hair and face, and holds her close, pressing his forehead against hers. “You rest. No more edging today. Just rest. I’ll take care of you.”

It takes him several days to figure out where a Muggle prenatal appointment can be gotten and then how to schedule one. Once he has it scheduled, he realises that Granger has no clothes. He can’t very well take her to a Muggle healer in nothing but white knickers.

He has to go shopping for her. He goes through dozens of racks of clothing, trying to find clothes that a Muggle who looks like Granger might wear. He has no clue what a person was supposed to wear to a prenatal appointment.

He buys several options and is halfway home when he notices that Muggle women carry handbags. It would probably look strange if Granger doesn’t have one. He goes back and spends several hours staring at the options and trying to figure out why there were so many. When he finally finds one he likes, he realises it didn’t match the outfits he selected and has to start over.

He goes to his favourite French restaurant and orders several servings of their chicken pot au feu.

Each time he returns home, Granger in the middle of her nest where he told her to sleep. He fights the recurring desire to shake her awake and verify that she isn’t on the brink of death.

What if she dies right there in his room because he didn’t take care of her carefully enough?

When he can’t restrain himself any longer, he goes over to her. She’s cold again. The pregnancy must be doing something to make her get so cold. He makes the room stiflingly hot and casts warming spells on her until her skin is warm again and she’s soft and pliant in his arms.

Her belly has become hard again. He doesn’t know what to make of that. 

He runs his fingers through her silky hair. “I have a Muggle prenatal appointment scheduled for you tomorrow.”

He hopes the news will make her brighten, but she just rests her head quietly against his chest.

He kisses her forehead. She doesn’t need to talk, she’s always tended to be quiet.

He tries to feed her, but she doesn’t seem interested. When he sets her down, she slumps back in the nest as though she’s too weak to sit up.

The pregnancy is killing her.

He holds her all night, his heart pounding with worry as he grips her body tightly against his. He keeps casting warming charms to keep her skin from getting cold. His stomach twists to the point of nausea at the thought that something might be wrong with her. He keeps kissing her shoulder and telling himself she’ll be alright.

Granger sleeps solidly every night. It was one of the few times she doesn’t disturb him by squirming from frustrated arousal or sneaking into the bathroom to cry into the towels.

He tries to feed her chicken soup and other fattening things he hopes will tempt her appetite, but she doesn’t seem to want to eat, even when he orders her to.

He doesn’t punish her. She’s unwell. He can’t force her to eat when she’s unwell.

It’ll be fine. Once she’s better, she’ll eat. He combs her hair and fusses over her. He isn’t sure what to do with himself or her when he isn’t edging her or having sex with her. Nothing he says to her seems to spark any interest at all, she just lies in a depressed heap in the middle of the bed.

He edges her because he knows she loves that.

Licking and nipping and suckling at her clit and she lays so obediently still for him the way he’s trained her to. He keeps teasing her until he sees her fingers curving like claws in the sheets. He coats her cunt with aphrodisiac potion and fucks her slowly, feeling her body rigid under his as she fights her orgasm. She’s such a good girl.

He thinks about letting her come but decides against it. It was horrifying the way her stomach changed shape last time.

She’s not as warm around his cock as she used to be. When he comes inside her and rests against her delicate body, she seems to grow even cooler.

The baby must be stealing her warmth.

That’s what’s wrong. It’s the baby. The pregnancy is ruining her, probably killing her.

He needs to get rid of it.

Everything will go back to normal if he gets rid of the pregnancy.

She’ll be devastated not to have a baby, but she’ll get over it. She’ll still have Draco. Maybe a pet would be better to keep her company. She used to have a cat at Hogwarts. A repulsive orange hairball.

He’ll buy her a cat. One that’s pretty and dainty like her.

He’ll get her books again too, he decides. Once she’s better, she can read them aloud while he edges her. Just the thought warms his blood. He’s certain that will make her even happier.

He’ll tell the Muggle healers they have to get rid of the baby when he takes her to the prenatal appointment.

When he tells her the decision, she doesn’t say a word even though he kisses her and tells her she’s allowed to cry if she wants to.

He’s relieved that she isn’t hysterical about it. It’s because she trusts him.

As the appointment draws closer, Granger grows visibly grey, looking sickly as she lies in bed. No matter what spells he casts, she doesn’t seem to stay warm for long.

She’s nervous. This will be her first time leaving home. He rubs reassuring circles on her back.

“Don’t worry. They’ll all be Muggles, and no one will realise you’re an Omega while you’re pregnant. You’ll be safe. And I’ll be with you the entire time.”

He picks out the clothes she’ll wear and puts them onto her. She looks so pretty in them. Maybe he should let her wear clothes occasionally. He slides his fingers teasingly under the hem of her skirt.

He’ll teach her to strip for him.

She’s so nervous, she won’t even stand when he tells her it’s time to leave. He has to pick her up and carry her out of the townhouse.

Several Muggles stop to stare but Draco ignores them as he continues to carry her down the street.

It’s a long walk, and Granger sags limply against him.

Maybe he should take her to St Mungo’s. She’s fading so quickly.

But if he takes her there, Potter or someone else might try to have her taken away.

It’s best to stick with Muggles. There’s more of them than there are wizards, they must know something about healing.

An automobile pulls up beside him.

Draco turns and finds a man wearing a strange black vest and round sort of bowler’s hat adorned with a badge and checkered band stepping out. He glances around and notices there are several more similarly attired men and women nearby.

He thinks they’re called Bobbies but he isn’t entirely sure. Then he realises there are words embroidered on their vests.

Metropolitan Police.

Police? He holds Granger closer and tries to remember what the police is.

Muggle Aurors, he thinks.

Why on earth are there police here?

The Bobby with the automobile steps closer, staring at Granger and cocking his head to the side. “What’s this you’re doing?”

Draco holds her protectively closer. “She’s sick. I think her pregnancy is doing something to her. I’m taking her for a prenatal visit.”

The Bobby’s eyes widen and his eyebrows go up as he looks between Draco and Granger again. “I see... Well, it’s a long walk carrying the missus. Why don’t I give you a lift? Few people looking out are a bit worried for you both.”

Draco raises a sceptical eyebrow and glances around. The bobbies all seem to be getting closer.

The Bobby nods at his car. “Come on, it’ll be more comfortable for you both. I’ll get you there real quick.”

Draco hesitates. Granger’s growing cold in his arms again, and he can’t cast any spells on her in public to help her get warm again.

“Fine,” he finally says.

The Bobby opens up another door on the automobile and Draco gets in, holding Granger carefully in his arms.

He hears the door close but barely pays any attention to anything but her. Her skin is becoming a dingy grey colour and he’s growing increasingly convinced that she’s terribly sick.

The baby is killing her. She might even die before he even gets her to the healers.

“Can’t you go faster?” he snaps at the Bobby.

The Bobby glances back and the automobile seems to speed up.

Draco runs his hands through her silken hair, kissing her and promising her that everything is going to be alright. He’s going to fix everything.

”I’m going to take care of this,” he says, pressing his forehead against her. His voice breaks slightly and he kisses her again. “I’m going to fix this. I'll do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”

He loves her so much.

When the automobile finally stops the door flies open.

Everything happens in a blur, there are people reaching in and pulling Granger out of his arms. He shouts at them to not to touch her but no one listens. 

Don’t they have any fucking idea how important she is? She can't be taken away from him. She needs him.

She’s torn from his arms and he lunges after her, trying to get her back. As he clambers from the automobile, he stares, they aren't at the prenatal clinic.

“It’s alright. Let the doctors take care of her,” the Bobby is saying, but his hand on Draco’s shoulder is heavy and hard.

Draco’s pulled back while several Muggles lay her on a trolley. There are several other Muggles touching her throat and shining lights in her eyes.

“You can’t take her from me. She’s mine!” He throws himself forwards.

There are dozens of hands on him, pushing him to the ground and wrapped around his arms.

He’s going to kill them all. How dare they keep him from her.

He wrenches his wand out, murder on his lips, but his wrist is struck and twisted and the wand slips from his fingers, clattering to the ground.

Granger’s still lying on the trolley. Not even moving as Draco’s pinned to the ground.

“Calm down now,” the Bobby keeps saying, as he keeps holding Draco back and Granger is being wheeled away on a fucking trolley like she’s a tea service.

They’re not even keeping her warm.

He tries to lunge towards her again but the weight on his back increases until he’s crushed to the ground. He keeps struggling, screaming threats of how he’ll murder at them all.

Something stabs the side of his neck.

Everything blurs.

He fights but it’s like being underwater. Everything is sluggish and slow.

Granger’s still lying there on the trolley. She looks so pretty in her clothes, but she’s not looking at him.

He reaches towards her.

In the sunlight, her skin seems discoloured. His vision blurs.

He squints.

There’s bruising on her throat, stark, purple fingerprints. He can make those go away with a few spells.

Everyone should see how pretty he’s made her.

“Granger…”

“...Granger…” He tries to reach for her.

She fades away before his eyes.   
  


* * *

When Draco wakes up, his entire body hurts, every joint in his body aching, there’s an agonizing pain radiating from his forehead. He touches it and finds blood on his fingers.

Fucking Muggles.

Why did they attack him when he was trying to take care of Granger? They’re all animals.

He glances around at the drab stone room he’s in.

It must be a waiting room. He blinks. His vision is still unsteady and he tries to clear the stabbing pain in his head.

The door’s locked and he searches but can’t find his wand. He struggles to breathe as cold panic spreads like ice through his chest.

What’s happening? Where’s Granger? Is she alright?

He shouts down the empty hallway until someone comes. A large man dressed in heavy black robes and a cloak. He stares.

Robes?

He sags with relief. They must be at St Mungo’s. Granger was so sick, they must have transferred her.

He grips the frosty bars. “Where’s Granger? She’s pregnant and it’s making her cold. The baby needs to be taken out so it stops. I need to see her.”

The bones in his hands are throbbing as if there’s ice sinking into his joints. He’s so cold. He’s so fucking cold. Why can’t they keep the waiting rooms warmer?

Never mind that. He just needs Granger.

Once the pregnancy is gone, she’ll go into heat again. He’ll have her scaldingly feverish skin under his hands to warm himself with. He’ll sink his cock into her hot, sweet cunt and knot again. He’ll lick up every drop of sweat from her skin and drink her sweet arousal as she begs and grinds against him, all supple and swollen.

Everything will be fine once the pregnancy is gone. Even if people realise she’s an Omega, Granger will want him. She loves him. She’ll go with Draco even if Potter wants to have her taken away.

“I need to speak with the mediwizards caring for her,” he says.

The wizard moves closer.

Draco steps back so that he can be let out of the waiting room. 

He’ll go see Granger and take her home. He’ll feed her treats so that she won’t be so sad about losing the baby.

He breathes out and his breath condensates like frost in the air.

He’s sure she’ll be alright.

She always recovers from things quickly. He’ll be there to comfort her.

He’ll make stronger aphrodisiac potions that keep her so wet and needy she forgets she ever wanted a baby.

Maybe he’ll find a way to make her stay in heat or make them more frequent. He could experiment with supplementing her magic. It may stimulate her reproductive system more until she’s able to stay feverish and wanton, drooling and begging for his cock.

That’ll be better than a baby.

The door swings slowly open.

There’s a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach like someone has reached in and twisted his internal organs into a knot. He feels like he’s starving to death.

Starving for her.

His mouth waters. He just needs to get her home. He’ll lay her on the bed and slide his cock down her throat while he laps up her essence. The thought warms him. Then everything will be better.

He’s so fucking cold.

The wizard glides into the waiting room, closing in on Draco.

Why is it so cold in the hospital?

_“Death by strangulation.”_

Draco starts, trying to place the voice as the looming wizard draws closer.

_“Charges of necrophilia...”_

There’s screaming filling his ears.

_“Signs of starvation and torture…”_

Screaming.

_“I’m going to fucking kill you!”_

Draco stares up, screaming, trying to see the wizard’s face. A hoar-frost hand rests heavily on his shoulder, his skin freezing through Draco’s robes as a gaping, needle mouth slowly descends towards his.

Sucking.

Sucking.

 _Strangulation_ …

Sucking on his soul until its edges are unravelling.

_Necrophilia.._

_Murderer!_

_Lifetime in Azkaban..._

_...Kill you._

_Starvation..._

_...Torture._

The ocean wind is slicing his skin open, and there’s salt air begins crusting with stinging agony on all the open sores on his body. 

Draco screams and tries to tear himself away.

It’s a nightmare. He’s not here. It's a nightmare.

He’s never going back to Azkaban.

When he wakes up, he’ll pull Granger closer and slide into her slick little mouth. She’ll suck him off while he drowses.

Sucking.

 _Strangulation_...

... _Necrophilia_.

Sucking.

He fights and screams until his voice gives out. The dementor finally drops him onto the rough stone ground and glides away.

Draco lies there retching but nothing comes up from his shrivelled belly.

This is a nightmare. It’s just a nightmare.

He’ll wake up soon and he’ll be in bed with Granger.

He rams his head against the wall.

Wake up.

Granger’s waiting. 

He slams his head against the wall again.

* * *

When Draco wakes up, his entire body hurts, every joint in his body aching, but there’s an agonizing pain radiating from his forehead. He touches it and finds blood on his fingers.

Fucking Muggles. They’re all animals.

He glances around at the drab stone room he’s in.

It must be a waiting room. He blinks, trying to clear the stabbing pain in his head.

The door’s locked and he searches but can’t find his wand. He struggles to breathe as cold panic spreads like ice through his chest. What’s happening? Where’s Granger? Is she alright?

His throat feels raw but he shouts down the empty hallway until someone finally comes.

A large man dressed in heavy black robes and a cloak.

He grips the icy bars. “Where’s Granger?”

* * *

**The End**


End file.
